Inhibitions
by Aphrodite420
Summary: Inspired by the TOS episode "The Naked Time" Spock and Nyota are infected by pollen that loosens their inhibitions. The problem is- Spock is still Nyota's instructor. Complications ensue. Now complete.
1. Inhibitions

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Trek, Spock, or Nyota. I just like to play in that universe and do mean things to the characters.**

**A/N: Hey everyone! I've been absent from the Spock/Uhura scene for a while...I've been working on my Sarek/Amanda fic instead. But this idea REALLY wouldn't leave me alone.**

**This is not in any way connected to my previous fics for this couple. So you don't have to read those to read this. This is inspired by two TOS episodes- "The Naked Time" and "This Side of Paradise". So in this chapter, Spock will be out of character.**

**I don't know yet how long this will be. It will span over a few months, exploring the complications introduced in this chapter. Spock and Nyota will not be together right away, despite what happens in this chapter. As you will see, their relationship is going to be very complicated. And I am trying to handle this as realistically as possible- so there will not be any head-over-heels in love any time soon.**

**I once swore to myself that I would NEVER write a Spock/Uhura origins fic unless I had an original idea for it. Let's face it- there are A LOT of origins fics out there. While they are all good, they tend to seem a lot alike. Hopefully, this will result in at least a semi-original beginnings for the couple.  
**

**Anyway...on with the chapter!**

**Chapter 1: Inhibitions**

The first time they were together was an accident.

Nyota Uhura had been invited to the event by an instructor- and she was one of few cadets present. Only the top academy students had been asked to come to the Starfleet banquet held to honor officers killed in action.

It was a new idea- this was the first banquet and it was being held at the suggestion of one of the survivors of the Kelvin incident- but the event was not only to honor George Kirk. It was for all heroes, from the very beginnings of Starfleet to the present. It was an excellent idea- a wonderful way to celebrate the lives and achievements of those who deserved their honor. Nyota didn't know how no one had thought of it before.

Looking around the crowded room, she observed what was going on around her. A large viewscreen filled one wall, displaying a slideshow of holographs depicting each fallen officer. A long buffet table stood off to one side, the rest of the space occupied by dozens of round tables draped in white cloth and set for ten people each. Soft music played from a group of musicians on a platform opposite the viewscreen.

Starfleet officers- from Admirals to lowly Ensigns and a scattering of honor-roll cadets- mingled and talked. The mood was somber, respectful- and yet also social. Although it was held for the grim purpose of memorializing the dead it was still a social event.

Nyota looked closer at her fellow attendees. She didn't personally know many of them- only the cadets and a few instructors, although she did know several of the high-ranking officers by sight. Then her eyes fell on one man in particular- or one Vulcan.

She'd been in Commander Spock's Subspace Communications Simulations class for a total of sixteen weeks now- having taken both required quarters of the practical application course back to back instead of split up throughout the year, like her fellow linguistics students. The quarter was drawing to a close in a few weeks- and then she would begin her final quarter at the academy and move on from his class.

She had to admit- she would miss having him as her instructor. He had a no-nonsense curriculum and a grading scale that challenged her. He was by far the best instructor she'd had in simulated communications. She felt that she'd learned more from him than she had from the other instructors- and he was not even a linguistics instructor. He spoke several languages of course- but his area of expertise was computers and the programming of the communications consoles the students used. He knew all about subspace communications- but she knew he was a scientist. Not a linguist. She wondered why he'd even accepted the communications class.

Part of her reluctance to leave his class _may_ also have had something to do with the fact that he happened to be the best-looking instructor- perhaps even officer- in all of Starfleet.

She felt no guilt over that. She wasn't alone. Every breathing female in existence thought the Commander was sexy. It was a rarity when Nyota could appreciate a man's looks- and body- as well as his brain.

As she watched, the Commander spotted her as well. She didn't think he would come over to her- so she was surprised when he did.

"Cadet Uhura," he said with a curt nod as he stopped three feet away from her.

"Commander," she said, nodding back. He wore the stiff blue dress uniform of a science officer but it looked amazingly good on him. She didn't think anyone else could pull it off.

"I have been told you were accepted into Commander Ripley's advanced communications course next quarter. I believe humans often congratulate one another when such an accomplishment is achieved. It is well-known that Commander Ripley's course is especially difficult to be accepted into."

"Thank you sir," Nyota replied, smiling. He raised one slanted eyebrow.

"I did not yet congratulate you, Cadet. I merely stated it is a custom. Congratulations."

"Thank you again, then." Nyota's smile widened. He did not speak again for several seconds, instead gazing at her steadily. She wondered if congratulating her was the only reason he'd come over.

Not knowing what else to say, she cleared her throat and looked down at the glass of blue-green kaasa juice in one hand. She didn't know what to talk about- she really didn't know Spock that well- didn't know his interests. Their relationship was purely professional and she'd never seen him outside of the simulation room or his office before. He'd given her academic advice- he had been the one to bring Commander Ripley's advanced course to her attention- but that was the most personal thing that had ever passed between them. She was only another of his students after all- one of hundreds.

This did not in any way prepare her for conversation with him in a sociable setting such as this. What could they talk about here that they hadn't already talked about in class the day before?

"Cadet, I believe it is also customary to inquire whether you are enjoying yourself," he said. "Have you found this evening satisfactory?"

Nyota suppressed a smile. It was somewhat amusing to watch the Vulcan before her try to be polite in the human way.

"I think this banquet was a great idea," Nyota replied. "They should have done this sooner. The bravery of fallen officers _should_ be appreciated more often. That being said...I don't know many people here, and I've already spoken to all of them. I'm actually rather bored."

"I find social gatherings tedious as well," Spock admitted.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, sir- I usually love social gatherings. It's just not any fun when none of my friends are here."

"Fun?" Spock repeated, that jet-black eyebrow rising once more. "I was unaware that socializing was meant to be 'fun'. Admittedly, I do not understand the human concept of 'having fun' at all. Socializing is meant to build relationships between people who may be beneficial to you in some form. In this setting, it would be to establish ties with higher-ranking officers and fellow Starfleet personnel."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Commander," Nyota said with another smile. "Anyway...I was actually about to walk back to my dorm. It's getting late."

"I was preparing to leave also," Spock replied. "The cadet dormitories are not far from the graduate residences. As it is a Saturday evening, there are undoubtedly intoxicated cadets about. It would be logical for you to be accompanied across campus in case of danger- alcohol tends to make humans aggressive."

Nyota was slightly taken aback by this offer. While it was true that there would be drunk cadets about, she didn't really believe them to be a threat to her. But something in his gaze told Nyota that the Commander would not easily accept a refusal.

"I see no reason why not," she said, shrugging before setting her glass down on a nearby table. Most of the guests were leaving now anyway- after the dinner and several long-winded speeches they were ready to go.

Spock did not reply- instead he turned to head toward the exit, obviously expecting her to follow. Slightly annoyed by this, Nyota did as he expected.

The banquet had been held in a building on campus, but it was clear on the other side from the dorms. Nyota had worn high heels with her red dress uniform, and she knew her feet would ache after walking that distance. Resigned to her fate, she folded her arms in an attempt to shield herself from the chilly mist rolling in off the Bay.

Silence stretched between them as they walked along the brick path that ran underneath a line of trees. The leaves rustled together as the slight breeze stirred them and her heels clicked against the ground rhythmically. But neither of them spoke.

It was beginning to be disconcerting. Surely Nyota could think of _something_ to say- she was a linguist after all. Yet what could one say to a Vulcan? They did not engage in small talk, that much she knew- talking just for the sake of talking was illogical. Anything even remotely personal was out of the question- Vulcans were extremely private people. That left only academics, a subject they already discussed during class.

Nyota had always been somewhat put-off by his unemotionalism- and yes, she did find him to be slightly intimidating at times. He was the only Vulcan she had ever met and while she would love to take this opportunity to study him and learn more about his language- she was wary of doing so. She didn't know him very well and she knew he was not someone it would be easy to get close to.

They were walking by the campus greenhouse now. It was a large structure and housed hundreds of plants- non-Terran and Terran alike. Although not particularly interested in botany, Nyota often went there to walk among them. She felt the urge to go there now- she especially enjoyed the section that grew African flowers.

"Commander, if you want to go on ahead you can. But I want to stop here." Nyota stepped toward the greenhouse entrance.

"Cadet, it is late. You can visit the greenhouse tomorrow," Spock replied.

"I can't explain...but I want to go there now," she said, looking over her shoulder at him. "I come here when I want peace and quiet. Have you ever been inside?"

"I have been here to study new specimens from other planets. Cadet, you can come back at any time. For now, I suggest you continue to your dorm."

"You can go ahead, sir- if that's a suggestion and not an order," Nyota said, pulling the door open. The smells of fertilizer and green vegetation mixed with the sweet aroma of flowers rolled over her and she inhaled deeply. There was a pause- and then she heard footsteps behind her.

"I will stay. You will still require an escort back to your dorm." His voice was very close to her, and she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck. She started- she hadn't realized he was that close to her. She could feel the heat radiating from his body against her back and she quickly suppressed the inappropriate thoughts now filling her mind. He was her instructor. She repeated this to herself several times- she couldn't let the way he affected her body control her, or else she would jump him right then and there.

Moving into the warm greenhouse lit softly by ultraviolet lamps, they let the door close behind them. Nyota made her way down an aisle and she heard his quiet footsteps on the earthen floor behind her.

"You know, Commander, this place is actually very peaceful. The pleasant smells, the seclusion from the rest of campus- and everyone from every corner of the galaxy can find something familiar to them. When I first came to the academy I was homesick for Africa. So I came here often."

She wasn't sure why she was divulging such private information- she doubted he cared. He likely didn't even understand what she meant by "homesick". It wasn't logical to miss a place which she could return to at any time and which would always be there.

"I find the plants themselves to be more interesting," Spock replied.

"And that's the difference between a scientist and a linguistics expert I suppose," Nyota sighed. She glanced at him and saw his eyebrows draw together.

"There are many differences between two such individuals, Cadet Uhura," he replied. She laughed softly as she stopped to examine a large plant she'd never seen before.

"I wonder what this is? It must be new. They're always getting new specimens imported in from new planets," she said more to herself than to Spock, who stood beside her.

"I suggest you not touch it, Cadet. If it is a new import, it has likely not been thoroughly studied. It could be toxic."

"I may be human, but I'm not _that_ unintelligent, Commander," Nyota said. She leaned closer to look at the plant. It was nearly as tall as she was with broad, green, purple-tinged leaves. Dark red tubular growths sprouted from the stalk and what appeared to be yellow stamen peeked out of them.

"Interesting," she heard his smooth, deep voice utter. A smile spread across her face and she looked over at him. He was leaning over the plant as well, peering at the red growths.

"I don't know about you sir, but-" Nyota was stopped abruptly by a tickling sensation in her nose. She drew away from the plant hurriedly, just in time to sneeze- one, two, three, four times. By the time she recovered she found the Commander looking at her quizzically.

"Are you well, Cadet?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I must have inhaled some pollen, that's all," Nyota said. Spock straightened from bending over the plant, hands clasped behind his back.

"An interesting specimen. I must study it in my spare time. The tubular growths and what appears to be filaments and anthers are strange. They are quite unlike any I have ever seen before."

"Well we should go now," Nyota said. She didn't feel too good all of a sudden. She was lightheaded as they turned toward the doors. She no longer really wanted to look around the greenhouse. Spock was right- she could come back tomorrow.

"Are you well, Cadet?" Spock asked several minutes later as they walked along the path once more. Nyota felt almost as if she were drunk now...

"I'm fine," she muttered. She looked over at him. Her vision swam and Spock's form was blurry around the edges. "I think," she added.

"We must get you to your dorm. Or perhaps to medical," Spock said. She shook her head, and her vision doubled temporarily.

"No, I'm okay."

She stumbled slightly and his hand shot out to take her arm. His skin was hot- much hotter than her own. His fingers were strong as they wrapped around her upper arm and supported her.

"I insist, Cadet," he said in a quiet voice she had never heard him use before. He was rubbing her arm slowly now, reassuringly. His voice seemed to caress her, and she moaned. She leaned against him and felt his warm body. He was so hot- so strong- and she wanted nothing more than to just kiss him...to rip his clothes off his body and have her way with him right there on the grassy quad.

"Cadet...I find that I wish to do the same to you." His voice was silky, deep with desire...Nyota was startled at first- but then remembered...Vulcans are touch telepaths. Had he heard her thoughts?

She found that she was not disturbed by the idea that he had.

"Call me Nyota." She didn't know why she said that. She did it because she _wanted_ to, she supposed. And why not? Why not do whatever she wanted? She wanted _him_- that was for sure. She'd wanted him since the day she walked into his class and he stood at the podium in that tight-fitting instructor's uniform. Oh, she was very career-oriented and wanted nothing more to succeed- and she got top grades- but that didn't stop her from having sexual thoughts and desires.

"Nyota..." he whispered. The way he pronounced it- so exact, with almost a tender inflection- made her shiver delightedly. She felt herself heating up all over...something told her something was not right- that something was wrong with her...but all that mattered right now was that his voice was so deep, inviting...his body hot and his muscles deliciously hard as she pressed herself against his chest.

One of his warm hands moved up to cup her cheek, and the other pressed against her back firmly, bringing her closer to him. His eyes were smoldering when she looked into them. They were full of lust, just as she knew hers were.

"I feel funny," she murmured. "Do you feel it too?"

"I admit I am not myself," he replied, his voice low. "I am...struggling with my control. I do not currently possess the mental faculties required to examine why."

"Does it matter?" she asked, standing on tiptoes so her lips came close to his. She felt him shudder at the near contact, at the closeness of her body to his. The hand now resting on her hip squeezed gently.

"You are my student," he stated. He was trying to regain control over himself- she could almost sense it. But tonight was not a night for Vulcan control, she decided. A voice whispered in her mind, telling her..._do what you want_. _There is nothing to stop you._ _You've wanted the Commander for months._ _This is your opportunity._ _Go for it._

It was compelling her to give in...to give in to her desires. The rational part of her brain did not respond. It was already gone.

"Does that matter either?" she asked, rubbing her palms against his chest, feeling the tense muscles ripple under her fingers. His grip on her tightened, kneading her muscles gently. His breathing was becoming harder than usual- so was hers.

"No," he said, his voice low and full of heat. "It does not. I want you. _That_ is what matters."

So much for Vulcan control. It was now nonexistent.

His powerful hands lifted her almost off her feet- lips and tongues and hot breath met, mingling ferociously as he pulled her against him and kissed her deeply. She moaned, fingers clutching onto his blue uniform jacket. Earlier, she had admired the uniform on him- now she wanted to admire it _off_ him.

This desire must have transmitted to him over the weak empathic link.

"My quarters are close to here," he said breathlessly, pulling away. "Come with me."

She'd never, in a million years, thought he would say anything to her even remotely resembling that. The thought that he had admitted he wanted her- that he wanted her to come with him to his quarters- made fire spread throughout her body and her legs go weak.

"Oh, yes. Please," she breathed. He emitted a low growl as he pulled her against him again, kissing her hotly. Oh, God...she'd never in a million years thought he could kiss her like this either. She was wrong. So, so wrong.

They stumbled toward the shadows of the graduate building where instructors lived. It didn't matter to either of them if they were seen- luckily it was dark and everyone was either in bed or still at the banquet. Nyota didn't know how they even managed to get inside and to the turbolift without tripping- they were paying far more attention to their lips and hands than they were to where they were going.

Once in the turbolift, Spock pushed her against the wall, holding her arms above her head as he continued to kiss her fiercely. His tongue was hot and slightly dry against hers, but oh so good...as he pressed against her she could feel his arousal and wanted nothing more than to have them both naked as soon as possible.

"I estimate 1.2 minutes until we are in my quarters and you are laying on my bed, your clothing shredded," Spock said against her ear.

"Not soon enough," she growled. She felt a sharp pain and she gasped- he'd bitten her ear lobe. Somehow she found this indescribably sexy and her temperature rose higher.

The doors slid open onto a thankfully empty hall- although the occupants of the lift hardly noticed either way. Their inhibitions were gone. Shredded. They were giving in to their every whim- they could feel each other's desire over the shared contact link, as well as their own. It was too much. Her body burned with it, her breath was ragged and her heart pounded in her chest.

Spock pulled her down the hall by her waist, loathe to part his body from hers for even a second, still kissing her along the way. Nyota pushed at his shoulders- slamming him against a door. She kissed him hard- sucking on his lower lip, her tongue fighting his.

He reciprocated by pushing back- pressing her against the door opposite. His hands were everywhere- hot and skilled and _perfect_. He knew exactly where to touch her, where to kiss her.

"Voice print analysis," Spock said hoarsely in between kisses. The door beeped and suddenly swished open, and she stumbled back- pulling him roughly through the doorway with her. The door slid shut behind them.

* * *

They lay in a sweaty pile of entangled limbs on the bed three hours later. The desire had calmed...now Nyota only wanted to rest and lay against his too-warm body. His arms were around her, holding her close against him.

Now that the all-consuming fire was gone, they were much more at peace. Nyota's mind was still in a haze...the rational part of her mind still gone. The consequences of her actions had not yet sunk in. Nor would they for a while.

"Spock," Nyota said sleepily. Her body ached from their strenuous activities of the previous three hours, but it was a satisfied ache. "How did you end up in Starfleet?"

She didn't know _why_ she wanted to know. She just did. So she asked.

"I made the decision to join Starfleet rather than the Vulcan Science Academy," he replied, eyes still closed- his words slightly slurred. "They insulted my mother- a human. It angered me, as she means much to me. I took great pleasure in the action of turning them down and have not regretted it since, even though it did disappoint my father."

He'd never spoken so plainly before. This intrigued her dimly, although she was unable to analyze the personal information he had bequeathed to her at the moment.

"Your mother's human?" Nyota asked dazedly. She struggled to understand the implications of this. Her brain didn't seem to want to work right...but that didn't matter, did it? She had what she wanted. She was beside Spock. Her instructor, her superior...and now her lover.

"She is. It has not been...easy for me. I am the only Human-Vulcan hybrid in existence. I spent much of my youth shunned by my classmates. I belong neither on Vulcan...nor here. I am alone, Nyota. I am tired of being alone."

His voice sounded sad. It occurred to her that she had never heard emotion in his voice before. It made him seem less like a Vulcan.

"I'm so sorry," she said. And she was.

"There is no need to be. There is now you. You accept me, do you not?" he asked in a low voice.

"Of course I do," she replied without really knowing what she was agreeing to. Her brain was still just so _foggy_...if only she could think clearly.

"I have never discussed such things with anyone before. My loneliness is something I have kept to myself. Not even my parents realize how alone I feel, my Nyota...but with you, I am not alone. I have been with women before, in my early years at the academy...but none were like you. I never felt this way with any of them. They were only experiments. You are different. You are special...I have known this since you first walked into my class. I have watched you closely, Nyota. My desire for you has grown into something I cannot control. And now...you are here. I cannot remember why I did not pursue you sooner. Perhaps I have seen reason."

"Mmm." Nyota's eyes were closing again. This feeling was rather nice. She knew he would not normally say these things- never speak so candidly about his feelings. She liked it. It made her feel like she knew him.

"Sleep, Nyota," he whispered, his lips hot as he kissed her forehead tenderly. Yes...this was nice. Very nice. This is exactly what she had wanted.

* * *

Nyota sat bolt-upright.

She was naked. She was in Spock's quarters. In Spock's bed. They'd slept together- oh God! _They'd slept together!_ She'd slept with her _instructor_!

Her mind was clear now. Whatever had affected her was gone. Rationale was taking over. And she knew- they had just made a huge, huge mistake. And if she could remember every single detail- he would too.

She looked over at him. He was still asleep. She had probably not been asleep long herself- the sun was not even rising yet.

The sheet barely covered his hips and he slept on his back. His hair was in disarray- a phenomenon she had never thought possible. His bare chest was scattered with black hair, and well-sculpted due to Starfleet training...but instead of being turned on as she should have been- she panicked.

She had to leave before he woke up. She couldn't bear facing him after what had just happened- it would be mortifying. For the both of them. They had not been in their right minds. If they had been- this _definitely_ wouldn't have happened.

Scrambling out of bed, she hunted for her dress uniform. She found her shoes flung clear across the room...but let out a groan when she found her long red skirt and uniform jacket. Both were ripped- no, _shredded_. Her underwear was nothing more than strips of cloth. Just as he had promised.

Heart thudding in her chest, she looked around. The bedroom was plain- decorated in muted browns, blacks, and grays- as she had expected of the enigmatic Vulcan Commander. There were a few strange sculptures and stone tablets engraved with Vulcan glyphs...and a closet stood open on the other side. She rushed toward it- her brain screaming at her to hurry up. She _had_ to be gone when he woke up- and that could be at any time.

As she pulled on a pair of his black slacks- which were way too long and loose but would have to do- she brushed tears away from her cheeks. She had made a complete mess out of things. _Why_ did she insist on going to the greenhouse? _Why_ did she have to stop and inspect that particular plant? _Why_ did she have to lust after her teacher?

Nyota threw on a dark blue button-down she'd found in the very back of the closet and buttoned it up as she slid her feet into her high heels. They were the only remainders of the outfit she'd worn to the banquet. Too bad they wouldn't help her flee any faster.

She threw another look at the sleeping Commander. He looked peaceful- quite unlike the passionate, emotional man of the night before, yet not quite like the stern, unmoving instructor she'd known for the last few months. She felt a pang shoot through her- perhaps she should stay and talk things out with him?

But no. She couldn't. All that mattered was getting the hell out of there- and to hope he would pretend they hadn't spent a night having hot, wild sex while under the disinhibiting effects of an unknown plant.

Breathing hard, Nyota squeezed her eyes shut. This was, by far, the worst thing to ever happen to her. She recalled how careless they had been the night before- someone could have seen them. She and Spock could both be in deep, deep trouble. Their careers could end. All because she'd insisted on going to that damned greenhouse.

Opening her eyes, she allowed herself to take in the image of Spock one last time- so peaceful, so beautiful...so lonely. She would never see him like that again. She couldn't. He was her _instructor_...she shouldn't even be here, in his quarters. This was a disaster.

Knowing she still wouldn't be able to escape the consequences, she turned around and left.

**A/N: I would appreciate it if you left comments and feedback, if you have the time. I'd like to know what everyone thinks about this so far.**


	2. Mortification

**A/N: Wow! 40 reviews? That's the most I've ever gotten for a single chapter! Thanks everyone!**

**I'm glad you all like it so far...I just hope it meets your expectations! This chapter is mostly introspection about what happened...not much dialogue at all. Just to warn you.**

**This chapter was especially difficult to write. Many thanks to LadyFangs, who helped out a lot!**

**Chapter 2: Mortification**

Spock awoke to the sound of the front door closing.

He sat up slowly, registering the state of the room. The empty space beside him on the bed- which was usually smooth and barely wrinkled when he awoke- was now rumpled, the sheets thrown back. Clothing was unceremoniously tossed about and laying in random locations on the floor. He spotted the torn remnants of a cadet dress uniform among them- and immediately recalled everything that had occurred.

As a Vulcan, he was blessed- or cursed, depending on how one chose to view it- with an eidetic memory. He could recall everything he had ever experienced with absolute clarity, as if he were viewing a video. And the images of the previous evening's activities now dancing through his mind caused his body to flush.

His initial reaction was a combination of shame and mortification. Shame that he had had sexual relations with his _student_. Mortification that he had told her some very personal things he'd never thought he would tell anybody, let alone _her_.

He had been careless. He cringed inwardly, remembering the force with which he'd kissed and groped and fondled her from outside all the way into his quarters. They had caused a commotion in the hallway when they'd slammed into doors- and against the walls of his quarters in the haste and fury of their coupling. He did not remember activating sound-proofing...and they were in a building full of Starfleet officers. A part of his mind wondered at what others may have heard...

There were no less than fifteen Starfleet regulations prohibiting relations between instructors and cadets. He had broken every single one of them. If found out, he faced court-martial and demotion- perhaps even expulsion from Starfleet.

And she would likely be punished as well. As the student and therefore the one in a lesser position, she would not be as severely reprimanded- but she would still find her reputation tarnished and a black mark on her record that would prevent her from reaching her full potential in Starfleet as she should.

He knew she'd worked hard to be where she was. He watched her every week- paying rapt attention to her console, deciphering the codes with rapid precision. She scored the highest marks in his simulations- and in all of her classes. She was a top student, and was the best xenolinguistics expert at the academy- if not in all of Starfleet or even her entire field. He did not want all of that to be for nothing.

Spock was consumed by his guilt. _She was his student. _This should not have happened. It was a grievous error, rife with so many different and all-negative ramifications. At that thought he forced his eyes closed. He could not even begin to wrap his mind around it. They could both suffer terrible consequences.

But how- _how_ had this occurred? He had not been in his right state of mind. That much he knew. He thought back...what could have caused this irregular behavior?

They must have somehow been under the influence of a toxin. That was the only way he could explain it. And the greenhouse was the only place he could think of where they may have been exposed to such an agent. _The plant._ It must have been the strange specimen Nyota- _Cadet_ _Uhura_, he corrected himself- had been examining. They'd both stood close to it. She had inhaled pollen and he may have too...it had done something to them- or at least to him. It had heightened his sex drive, weakened his control and relaxed his inhibitions- allowing him to act on a desire he'd consciously worked to repress for months on end. But her? Had he forced himself on her? Had she wanted his advances? Or had she been reacting to his lust?

Scene after lustful scene replayed itself in his mind, and he couldn't shut it out. Of them on the floor, against the wall, on the couch and ultimately- the bed. So much passion...and she had responded with equal passion to him...

He could not speak for the cadet. But he, however...

It was natural to harbor attraction towards a female- but illogical to act upon it. He had noted Cadet Uhura's aesthetically pleasing facial features and physical attributes within three minutes of the very first simulations class- and it had only taken that long because he'd been calibrating a console and hadn't had the opportunity to look around the room. By the end of that same class he'd noted her impressive intellect and communications skills as well.

He found himself inexplicably drawn to her. While running subspace communications tests, he gravitated towards her console to observe her work far more often than he did with other students. When he entered the simulations room he glanced around to see if she was present before taking his place at the podium.

Soon he'd found himself finding excuses to speak to her- recommending Commander Ripley's program to her, advising her on what course of action to take to ensure she received the starship assignment she desired, discussing subspace communications technology and methods. She was articulate and knowledgeable, capable of keeping up with him in conversation- a feat which was uncommon among humans, especially among the cadets.

He found her sparkling brown eyes captivating and he irrationally enjoyed the intensity with which she gazed at him as he lectured the class or answered her questions. On the rare occasions when she requested help at her console he took the opportunity to lean close to her- perhaps closer than was necessary. He felt an illogical desire to be close to her. It was strange. He had never had this desire with any other being.

It was unexplainable. It was illogical. And yet he was attracted to her- far more attracted than he'd been to the women he had engaged in casual sexual encounters with as a cadet.

Not knowing how she viewed him, he could not say with certainty that the pollen had the same effect on her as it did him, working as a disinhibitor and allowing him to act on his desire for her. But he found himself illogically hoping it was so. That would mean he was not alone in this strange attraction. As the scenes from the previous evening continued to run in his mind, he could see clearly that she had been as desirous for him as he had been for her the night before. If the effects were only of a sexually heightening nature he would be...disappointed. The desire she'd felt would have been artificial and he did not think he would like to confront that reality if it should be, and most likely was, the case.

He would have been content for things to continue as they had been. She would leave his class soon and he would be free of this strange enrapture- likely to never see her again once she graduated. He could go about his life as previously planned.

But then last night happened.

He'd had sexual relations with a cadet. No, not just any cadet- with a student in one of his classes. The most serious offense in the fraternization ban.

And yet...why was that his only reservation?

If she were not his student he would not feel guilty? Even now, that guilt was directed solely at the broken regulations. Shouldn't he regret the entire incident with every inch of his being? They had not been in their right minds. He had taken advantage of her. He had been in control of himself- perhaps able to stave off the effect of the pollen entirely- until he touched her and knew her thoughts. She'd wanted the same thing he did. She'd desired him and it didn't matter if it was just the toxin. He _wanted_ her to desire him- had wanted it for months- no matter how unethical and inappropriate it was. And once he knew that she did, he found that he did not even really want to fight it any more.

He had given in to the temptation.

He was not entirely to blame. The pollen _had_ directed his actions and clouded his judgment. But he had allowed it to. It gave him a freedom he'd never had before and it let him have her- no matter how much he would regret it later and no matter how much of a detrimental mistake it was. No matter that it was only temporary. He had enjoyed every moment of it.

But that damnable voice in his head would not be quiet. It screamed at him. _She was his student._ He had wanted her for fifteen weeks, three days, and twenty-two hours. In light of that...he could not regret having her. He only regretted that she was his student.

Spock moved to the edge of the bed, looking at the place where she had been. She had lain there. Beside him. She had been in his quarters, in his bed...he had kissed her hair, her cheeks, her eyelids...he had felt every curve of her body and her silky, cool skin against his. He had taken her, forcing cries of pleasure from lips he had kissed, to drive them both to places no man- or Vulcan (or at least not him) had gone before.

Spock leaned over the bed, the sheet still covering him up to his waist, and rested his head in his hands. He wished the pollen did not allow him to remember in such vivid detail. He would have been content with the simple knowledge that it had happened. Now he had these memories to haunt him.

His hands clenched on his thighs as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the pile of shredded clothing on the floor. A fresh wave of doubt now crept into his conscience. What about her? While he did not regret their actions beyond the implications- she obviously did. Why else would she have been in such a hurry to leave? Why else would she have been so reluctant to stay and talk to him about what had happened?

He had gone to sleep with her in his arms...and awoken to her leaving him without even a word. As illogical as it was- especially under the unusual circumstances- he was...hurt...

He knew he had no right to be. She had been there against her will in the first place- under the influence of a mind-altering drug. He could not reasonably expect her to want to stay. And yet...

She had wanted him, too. He'd felt it. He did not know if it had been generated by the pollen or not...but she had wanted him. And he had confided things to her...things he had never even admitted to himself. He had entrusted her with the information, just as he had entrusted her with the emotional part of him no one had ever seen before.

She did not want that. She must be deeply regretful- perhaps even disgusted and embarrassed. She didn't accept him after all.

Spock stood and went to the pile of red cloth, stooping and picking up the remains of a skirt. It was evidence that she had been here. Proof that despite her obvious horror, it had not been an hallucination.

He ran his fingers over the smoothness, and held it up to his nose. It smelled like her...her natural human scent as well as a touch of some artificial fragrance that may have been jasmine. He had caught the scent before while leaning over her console, and he could smell it faintly in the air, lingering after its source was long gone. He knew he would never be able to detect that aroma again without thinking of her.

Gathering the torn jacket as well, he folded the articles of clothing as neatly as he could before placing them on a shelf in his closet. She would not want them back- they were ruined. He would keep them.

Looking around at the disarray he felt the pang of a familiar emotion which he had not dared name until the night before...loneliness. He had not been alone that night- she had been here. But she did not want him.

He knew he could not escape the consequences of their actions. He would not try to. He knew what he must do. It was only logical.

As he began to strip the bed of the sheets that were heavy with their combined scent, he also knew that he must tell her of his intentions. He must confront her, speak to her...no matter how uncomfortable it would be.

* * *

Nyota was able to make it back to her dorm without incident.

She entered her access code and the door slid open noiselessly. She entered the room, stepping around the partition that separated the beds from the door- and ran into something very solid.

"Ouch!" came a voice from the darkness. Nyota froze.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Who do you _think_ it is? What are _you_ doing, coming back at five in the morning? I just got in and didn't turn the lights on because I thought you would be asleep. If I'd known you were going to be out all night, I would've used the dorm! Lights!"

Nyota tried to make a mad dash for the bathroom as the room lit up. She _couldn't_ let Gaila see her like this...but she stumbled over the legs of the baggy pants she wore and couldn't get there in time...

It was too late- and she closed her eyes and winced as soon as the lights came on. She was caught.

"What. Is. _That_?" the green-skinned Orion asked, fiery red eyebrows high up on her forehead as she looked at Nyota's disheveled, sex-tangled hair and men's clothes. Nyota tried to make a run for it again- but her roommate reached out and caught her arm.

"No no no. You're not going anywhere. Who was it? Jason from biotech? He's a little nerdy, but cute. Ooh- or maybe Kevin from security! He's got a nice body. Or was it Lance? Not my type, but whatever you want. What happened to your clothes? Did you get drunk after the banquet and leave them somewhere? I went skinny-dipping this one time and-"

"Leave it alone, Gaila!" Nyota snapped, wrenching her arm away. "It's my own personal business."

Gaila looked hurt but Nyota had bigger things to worry about than _her_ feelings. Although relatively calm on the outside, she was still a mess- and by that she didn't just mean her appearance.

Ignoring the pained expression on the Orion's face Nyota went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Turning around she exhaled forcefully and placed her hands on the sink, leaning heavily on it- eyes closed and head bowed.

She had slept with Spock. The _Vulcan_. The _Commander_. Quite possibly the strictest instructor at the academy. These thoughts circulated in her mind over and over again. She still couldn't quite grasp them- even though she had the vivid memories to prove it.

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edges of the counter. She was still in shock. She knew it wasn't her fault- and it wasn't his either. She'd known immediately upon awakening what had affected them. The plant _had_ to be the answer. The strange lightheadedness had started right after inhaling the pollen. He must have inhaled some too. It was the only explanation.

That made it even worse. It had been consensual- and yet there was something wrong with it. They had not been in their right state of mind. They had been influenced. It was an accident that shouldn't have happened at _all_.

She'd always _wondered_ what it would be like to be with him...but had never expected it to happen. She would never have even contemplated trying it- he was Vulcan, after all. Detached, unemotional, highly unlikely to have any interest in her. She respected him as her instructor- she admired his keen intellect- and she appreciated his physical attractions (and by God, now she was equipped with the working knowledge that those attributes were certainly impressive). But that was where it ended.

This was not worth endangering both of their careers over. And considering how they had behaved, it was nothing short of a miracle if no one had seen or heard them. They had been very...amorous...in the hallways, and she'd been loud in his quarters.

Nyota looked up at the mirror, catching sight of her tangled hair and the dark circles under her eyes. She probably hadn't gotten more than an hour or two of sleep and she should have been exhausted- but the adrenaline still coursed through her from waking up to discover herself lying beside her instructor. Her _naked_ instructor.

Looking at herself in the mirror forced the images into her mind again. And she felt the heat build in the single place she most certainly did not want it to. The feel of his hands all over her, the smell of his body, the heat of his mouth on her-

Then it struck her.

If- as she strongly suspected- the plant's pollen held disinhibiting effects...that meant that _Spock_...

_No_. She refused to believe it. Spock was Vulcan. He wouldn't lust after a student. It would be illogical- against regulation and against any moral code. And yet...if it had brought out _her_ desire for _him_...he had not been unwilling. He had kissed her first. He had offered his quarters for their refuge. He had opened up to her...

She remembered that he was not full-blooded Vulcan. He was half-human too.

Thinking back to his confessions, she felt worse. He'd told her such personal things. He was lonely...he wanted to be accepted. He wanted _her_ to accept him. She felt like she shouldn't have heard these things- like she had eavesdropped on private musings. She didn't deserve to know Spock's innermost secrets. She had never appreciated him enough to even realize he _felt_. The stoic Vulcan facade was often so misleading it was easy to forget he had emotions just like every other being.

Maybe she should have stayed, talked to him...but she was still embarrassed. Her desire for him had been laid bare without her consent. She had been thrust into the situation- not quite willing, but not unwilling either. Things she'd never wanted to happen- but at the same time _had_ actually wanted to happen...had happened. The same must be true for him.

She wasn't sure if it would be worse if their secret desires had been brought out- or that it may have all been induced by the pollen and was all fake. That would be even more mortifying- they'd been forced to act on something they didn't want. Or at least on what Spock didn't want.

The whole thing was a disaster.

But she couldn't dwell on it. She _shouldn't_ dwell on it. Straightening herself up, she looked at her reflection with determination.

What mattered was that she would have to see him again- and soon. She had simulations with him on Mondays and Fridays- and it was Sunday. She couldn't avoid him and she would have to behave around him as she always did. It would be difficult...but if things were to return to normal and she were to try to forget this whole horrifying ordeal, she had to try.

Squaring her shoulders, Nyota began to unbutton the shirt. First things first- a shower. She could smell him on her...she had to get rid of the scent. Permanently. Maybe doing so would somehow make it easier to get through this. The idea made no sense, but she was willing to try anything to forget it all. But she couldn't forget. Not when she was wearing his clothes. Quickly, she shed them and stepped into the shower. Normally set to sonics, she now turned it to water and up as high it would go without scalding her.

The water felt so good against her skin as she closed her eyes and began to inhale and exhale deeply...just enjoying the heat of the water as it rolled down her skin. Heat...something she'd felt as she lay under the commander and felt the heat of his body in hers...

She quickly opened her eyes and washed before shutting off the shower. It certainly hadn't helped in her quest to forget. She dried off and dressed quickly, and afterwards spent the next two hours hiding in her dorm.

Gaila had been gone when she left the bathroom, and had not returned. Now that she was as calm as possible under the circumstances, she regretted being so harsh to her roommate.

They weren't best friends at first. They were two completely different individuals with opposite interests and little in common. If they did not room together and were therefore forced to become friends, they would probably never have entered each other's social spheres. Nyota was what Gaila termed a "brainiac" and hung around with fellow intellectuals as well a few other choice friends. Gaila however...was a partier. She did well with her grades- but her friends were all the type who would get drunk on a school night rather than study. She used to bring men back to the dorm all the time- and Nyota knew she still snuck around and did it sometimes, even after asking her not to do it any more. She knew it wasn't her fault- it was Orion biology. She couldn't help it, she was just a very sexual being. But that didn't change the fact that they were entirely different people with entirely different priorities.

But they had grown to be friends- and were close. And Nyota didn't like to hurt Gaila- no matter how nosy she could be at times. She would have to apologize when she saw her again- but she wasn't going to tell her the details. She could never tell _anyone_ the details.

No one could know about Spock. That was a secret she was going to take to the grave.

In a vain attempt to distract herself from the events of the night before, she immersed herself in homework. She could have slept- but sleep was far from her mind. Homework normally kept her brain busy...but today she could barely concentrate on it.

Memories kept playing across her mind's eye- Spock kissing her feverishly outside under the trees and stars as they were surrounded by the Bay mist, pulling her roughly against him. Pushing her against the wall of the turbolift- hands and lips everywhere she wanted them to be. Pulling her toward his quarters, ripping her jacket off as soon as they made it over the threshold- her skirt and underwear quickly following. His hot body against hers; his lips lingering as he kissed her softly while they cooled down from their activities. His whispered words full of pain, echoes of past torment and lifelong loneliness...

She'd been wrong to think he didn't feel before that moment. It made her feel presumptuous- arrogant. She prided herself on her understanding of non-Terrans and their ways...she was ashamed to have been so far off-base with him. Now she understood just how deeply he felt.

Nyota tossed her PADD and stylus aside, burying her face in her hands. She wished it had never happened. Life was complicated enough without sex with her instructor thrown in.

The door chimed and she looked up. It was only 0700 hours. She frowned. Who would be here this early?

Sighing, she stood and went to the door, pressing the touchpad. It slid open- and she froze, eyes widening. No. This was too soon. Much too soon. She wasn't ready for this- not yet.

"Cadet Uhura," the Commander said by way of greeting. His face was blank- carefully smooth and devoid of emotion, as always. His uniform was meticulously neat and pressed, his hair once more a gleaming helmet and not the mess it had been the last time she saw him. There was no evidence whatsoever of what had affected him the night before.

"Commander," she returned, her mouth suddenly very dry.

She'd thought she had at least another day to prepare before having to confront him...but of course he would not delay. It would not be logical. He would want to discuss the situation as soon as possible.

And she'd thought her day couldn't get any worse.


	3. Confrontation

**A/N: Hasn't been very long since my last update, but I was dying to write this chapter...**

**Chapter 3: Confrontation**

Nyota looked down at the floor, occasionally sparing a glance at the Commander through her eyelashes. Nervousness bubbled up inside her, tightening her insides. Her stomach clenched. She wished he would say something- the silence was seemingly stretching on forever.

"You can come in. My roommate's not here," she finally said. Spock blinked, as if coming out of a reverie. He straightened slightly, the fabric of his shirt stretched tighter across his chest as his shoulders stiffened. She recalled how powerful those muscles felt as she ran her fingers over them, through the sparse black hairs and down the thin trail that led to...

"I would prefer to conduct this conversation in a more professional setting, Cadet," he said. Nyota vaguely wondered if maybe he just didn't want to be alone with her in a place as personal as her dorm.

"Is it a 'professional' conversation?" she countered. They both already knew the answer to that.

"I consider it to be," he replied. Nyota's eyebrows rose. _She_ certainly didn't consider the fact that they'd had hot sex in nearly every corner of his quarters to be a professional subject.

"Really." Her voice was flat, unbelieving. He didn't seem to pick up on the sarcasm.

"I propose that we go to my office," he said.

"Your office," she repeated. She'd been in his office numerous times- to ask for clarification on an assignment, to turn in projects early- but had never expected to discuss _this_ there. She would have been much more comfortable talking about it in her dorm...but maybe the exact opposite was true for him.

After all, this situation must be just as difficult for him to grasp. Perhaps even more so, considering his position as her superior and as a Vulcan adhering to strict disciplines.

Despite what she may have thought just two hours before, it was very easy to separate the Vulcan before her from the one in her memories of the night before. There was a very noticeable difference, and seeing him before her now- so composed, his appearance so neat- she could almost believe it had all been a bad dream.

Or a really, really good one.

She felt herself becoming less tense and nervous now. They were both adults here- and professionals in Starfleet. What had happened was out of their control, and highly embarrassing to them both. It must be handled in a mature manner. And if he wanted to discuss it in the same place where he graded simulation results and helped students with assignments...well, if that was more comfortable for him...

"Fine. Your office it is," she said. He did not respond, instead turning around and heading away from her. She rolled her eyes- she hated it when he assumed she would just follow him. He'd done the same thing the night before at the banquet.

Quickly sliding on a pair of boots, she hurried after him.

They walked the halls in silence. As it was 0700 on a Sunday morning, no one was about. The academy would likely be empty until noon, when those who had hangovers from the night before would finally stumble out of bed and to the mess hall. Until then, they could probably have a quickie against a wall right in the middle of a corridor and no one would even catch them.

Damn it.

She couldn't get these thoughts out of her head now. She hoped it was just a post-night-of-hot-sex haze that would soon go away- because if she was going to have these thoughts every time she was anywhere near him, that was going to be a problem.

Then she wondered if he was recalling the night before, too.

They reached his office in the science department after several minutes of walking. As soon as she walked in behind him, he locked the door and stood before it- hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It was his natural stance, one she also found sexy.

Nyota faced him, arms crossed over her chest. She bit her lower lip for a moment, waiting for him to speak...the nervousness was starting to creep back in again.

"Cadet..." He paused, and cleared his throat- something she had never, ever witnessed him do. _He must be even more uncomfortable than I imagined_, she thought to herself in amazement. "As I am sure you have already deduced, I am reasonably certain that our...inappropriate behavior...was caused by the plant you inspected in the greenhouse. Am I correct in the assumption that you already know this?"

"Yes, sir, you are," she replied. She found that calling him 'sir' felt strange on her tongue now. She was surprised to find that he was now Spock in her head- not sir, and not Commander.

Was it the same for him? she wondered.

"I am unsure as to the exact effects of the plant," Spock admitted. "I will study it when I am able to. It could merely be an aphrodisiac, or possibly...something else. Until I study it further, there is no knowing. I have checked with the botanist in charge of new specimens, and he claims that there is no documented side-effects of the plant's pollen. But as it is a new discovery, it is highly likely that he is wrong."

"I'd sure say so," Nyota sighed, her eyes sliding away from his and down to the floor again. He believed it to be an aphrodisiac- she was sure of it. And maybe he was right. That meant the whole thing had been fake...at least on his part. She knew she had no right to be, but she was disappointed.

"I agree," he said. "Which is why I will study it. Now that that point is established, we must move on to the...effects of the pollen in question."

There was a very long pause, in which Nyota felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. She could feel his eyes on her and knew he was studying her.

"What occurred between us," Spock finally began again, and she looked up. His dark eyes were now trained on the wall over her right shoulder. "Was, as we both know, against Starfleet regulations. It is a very serious offense, in violation of no less than fifteen codes."

She knew this already, of course. She knew that if they were caught they would be in huge trouble. But as far as she knew, they hadn't been caught.

"In light of this, I have decided that it would be best to turn myself in," he finally concluded.

Nyota stared. His eyes finally moved from the wall, fixing onto hers directly for the first time since showing up at her dorm. They were so dark- infinite depths of chocolate, and yet somehow more human than the rest of him. She had never noticed that before.

"What?" she finally managed to croak out.

"I have logically thought out the best course of action. I will turn myself in to the academy board," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child. Nyota shook her head as if trying to clear it, blinking hard.

"_What_?" she repeated, this time more forcefully. "Turn yourself in? Did someone find out?"

"I have not yet been contacted. But considering the level of noise we created..." He trailed off, and there was another silence. This time Nyota was struggling to understand what was going on.

"Sir- you can't turn yourself in!" she exclaimed.

"I can, and I plan to, Cadet," he replied. "If I do so, you will not be punished at all. You are a top student at this academy and I cannot allow this to negatively impact your future career with Starfleet."

"What do you mean I wouldn't be punished- I'm just as guilty!" she snapped. To herself, she added..._if not more so_. She had wanted it- he obviously had not.

"As I am the instigator of what occurred, and took advantage of your state of mind, I am responsible for our actions," he said, his voice as even as ever.

"The instigator! Commander- we both 'instigated' it! And what do you mean you 'took advantage' of my state of mind? Are you saying you're going to tell the board that you _raped_ me?" Her voice was rising higher, becoming incredulous. She couldn't believe what he was attempting to do. It was crazy.

When he did not reply and his gaze wandered back to the wall, she knew she had her answer.

"It wasn't rape," she finally said, her voice calmer. "And if you try to tell the board that, I'm going to contest it. In fact- if you turn yourself in, I turn myself in as well."

"I am taking these actions to preserve your career, Cadet," he said sternly.

"And I want to preserve yours! I can't let you do this, Commander- neither of us are at fault! What happened was a huge mistake, we both know that- and if I could take it all back, I definitely would-"

She was too busy trying to make her point to see the look he shot in her direction at this.

"-so if you want to land yourself in trouble to save my career, it's going to be futile, because I'll be following right behind!" she finished, eyes flashing as she glared at him- chin jutting out slightly in defiance, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Cadet, lower your voice," he said in the same tone he had used throughout this encounter.

"Tell me you're not going to turn yourself in!" she hissed. She didn't care that she was being insubordinate. He didn't even seem to notice- or if he did, he didn't care.

"If I do not, we are likely to have been overheard anyhow, Cadet Uhura," he replied.

"And what if we weren't? We would suffer the consequences for something we could have gotten away with! It's not like we were in our right minds, anyway- how could they punish us for something we had no control over?" she asked.

"We have no proof that the plant was responsible, and the board relies on evidence, Cadet. And even if we were not overheard, I must confess out of moral obligation. You are my student. What we did last night was against regulations, and I cannot allow us to simply 'get away with it'. If I did so, my personal integrity would be at stake. I thought it best to inform you of my intentions, but I must ask you not to interfere. This is in your best interest."

"But it's not fair for you to take all the blame, damn it!" she said. "I can't let you do that!"

He eyed her silently for several long seconds. Her chest was heaving, angry tears forming in her eyes. _Why_ was he being so stubborn? She _couldn't_ let him do this.

"Spock..." she said, and then caught herself. "Sorry," she muttered. He inclined his head slightly.

"You have more license to slip than most, Cadet," he said, his voice quiet- like it had been the night before. It was much softer than his normal tone- like a caress. Intimate. Tender.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as memories fled through her mind- skating into her mind's eye before flitting off and being replaced by the next. His voice created a heat in her lower belly and she tried to repress it.

"I can't let you turn yourself in. Why not just wait until you know someone knows about what happened? If no one knows...there's no need for either of us to get into trouble. And trust me, Commander- I won't let you get into trouble alone." She inhaled deeply, waiting for his response. It was several seconds before it came.

"Cadet..." Still using that tone...it somehow made her truly regret leaving him the way she had that morning...he deserved better than that. Had it hurt his feelings? Now that she knew he _did_ feel, it was a possibility."If I do not, it will weigh on my conscience. You do not know what you ask of me. This situation is...complicated."

"I know that, Commander," she said, her voice soft as well. "I don't want this to weigh on your conscience...but if no one knows, we have a way out of this that will keep both of our careers intact. I'm not asking you to lie- just not to tell unless forced to. We already know it was an accident- neither of us wanted it to happen." This was a bold-faced lie. But if he thought the pollen was an aphrodisiac, it was obvious that he did not feel any sort of desire for her prior to last night. And if he didn't, she didn't want him to know that _she_ had. That would be too mortifying for words. "So we know it's not going to happen again. We can get past this. Nothing has to even change. We can just...go back to normal."

He was silent as he regarded her- eyes calculating. It was a little unnerving, the intensity with which he was studying her. His eyes roamed over her face, as if searching...but searching for what?

"Commander?" she asked when he did not say anything for almost a full minute. He blinked, looking down at the floor.

"Very well. If no one comes forward, I will say nothing. I must ask that you do the same, and respect my privacy by not divulging the events of last night to anyone." His voice was back to its even, professional cadence.

She knew he wasn't just talking about the mind-blowing sex. He was talking about the secrets he had bestowed on her, too.

"Of course, Commander," she said. "I won't say a word. I promise you that. I know Vulcans are very private people."

He nodded, but she wasn't sure if it was in agreement to her statement or in acceptance of her promise.

There was another silence, during which Spock looked at the floor with the faintest of frowns playing about his mouth, and she watched him anxiously. She wished at times that he _did_ show emotion, so she would have an idea of what he was thinking.

"Sir?" she prompted. He looked back up at her, once more squaring his shoulders and drawing himself up. She hadn't even realized he had relaxed.

"Cadet, I believe we have covered all topics that needed to be addressed. We must continue to behave professionally toward one another, and put this incident behind us. I am sure you will practice utmost discretion in this matter, as you are an exemplary student and surely understand the importance of keeping this to ourselves. I expect you to continue working diligently in my class, as the events of last night will not in any way affect my grading of your work."

Nyota stiffened, affronted at this implication.

"Commander, I would never expect that of you," she said coldly. "There is no need to warn me. I earn my grades with my brain- not on my back." Or against a wall. Or on top.

He blinked, and it took him a moment to understand what she meant.

"I was not implying that you do, Cadet Uhura," he replied. "I was merely reinforcing the fact."

"There was no need to 'reinforce' it," she said, struggling to keep the venom out of her tone.

He continued to look at her in silence, his face carefully blank. She was glaring at him, but he made no attempt to rebuke her. For the first time, Nyota did not have sex on her mind as she looked at him.

"I am sure you have activities to pursue," Spock said, stepping out of the way of the door. "You may go, Cadet."

Nyota stood rooted to the spot. She hesitated, and then spoke again.

"Commander...I really do wish last night hadn't happened," she said. His eyes met hers.

"I know," he said, his voice slipping back into the softer tone for a moment. He had left off the 'cadet'...and while usually this would not have meant anything, this was somehow an acknowledgment of what had happened between them.

The fact was, as much as they resolved to act toward one another as they had before, it was going to be impossible. They had seen one another at their most intimate- both emotionally and physically. They couldn't trade back those passion-filled hours, and they knew nothing would be the same, no matter how much they attempted to delude themselves into thinking otherwise. Everything had changed.

Nyota looked down, biting her lip once more before walking past him toward the door. As she did, she caught a whiff of his scent...a hint of a natural, masculine aroma that she'd become familiar with just the night before. As she entered the corridor and headed back to her dorm, she decided on one thing.

Sex complicated everything.

* * *

The scent of jasmine lingered in the air long after she left.

He sat himself behind his desk, staring at his computer screen with his hands folded before his mouth, elbows propped up on the surface of the table. He had no work to do here...and yet there was nowhere else he needed to be at the moment.

Yes, he knew she wished it had not happened. She had made it very clear just how much she regretted it- had not wanted it to happen at all. He could not blame her, of course...the situation was difficult.

He truly did believe he should turn himself in. He had broken regulations...he had kissed her first, he had suggested they go to his quarters...she may have sent him those desires over the contact link, but he had been the one to act on them.

But the purpose of confessing was to preserve her career, and she was adamant that she would not allow him to do so alone. He knew the decision not to tell unless directly asked would weigh on his conscience- after all, he followed rules and regulations in everything he did in Starfleet. It had been an attempt at relieving his guilt.

She would not allow it. He admired her determination, even if it was problematic.

It had taken him over an hour to summon the courage required to go to her dorm. He was ashamed to admit as much- it was illogical to fear anything, but especially to fear a woman. He had gone over in his head what he would tell her as he made his way there. And then she had opened the door...she'd obviously been startled, and perhaps afraid. She hadn't wanted to see him, that much was clear.

He needed to study that plant. _Had_ to know the properties of the pollen. He _must_ find out if it was a disinhibitor. He would not be comfortable until he knew she'd acted on natural desires and not on ones fabricated by the toxin.

He didn't now why it mattered to him. It would not change what had happened or the outcome. It would not change the fact that she'd left him that morning. Rejected him by doing so.

It wasn't as if he could pursue a relationship with her. The very thought was utterly illogical- she was still his student. What he felt for her was desire only, anyway. And then there was T'Pring...

Having only met her three times in his entire life, he could not judge what sort of person T'Pring was. Their mating bond, established at the age of seven, had been dormant ever since then. Neither of them had ever opened it to reach out...and he had not undergone Pon Farr. He only knew she had affairs with other males- a fact he had gleaned from his mother. She had not said it outright, but had certainly hinted around at it enough for him to guess. Sometimes his mother was not as subtle as she seemed to believe she was. Or perhaps it was intentional...human women were complex.

Knowing T'Pring was unfaithful allowed him to not feel guilt on the few occasions when, as a cadet, he had ventured into sexual experimentation. He hadn't had many encounters, but it was enough to ascertain that sex was not as wonderful as humans seemed to think.

At least...he'd thought so until last night.

But despite T'Pring's unfaithfulness...she was still his betrothed. When- or if- he underwent Pon Farr, he would take her as his wife. It was his duty. She was his selected mate, and he accepted that fact. He had accepted it long ago, when his father took him aside after his mother protested vehemently against the arranged betrothal, and explained to him why he must marry T'Pring. It was part of his duty to the S'chn T'gai clan.

Spock's musings were interrupted by the chiming of his door.

"Enter," he called, and the door slid open. Captain Christopher Pike entered, grinning as he took a seat across from Spock.

"How are you, Mr. Spock?" he asked. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I am quite well, Captain. May I inquire as to why you are here?"

"Oh, no reason in particular. I was just going by," Pike said, waving his hand nonchalantly. He settled back in his chair, looking out Spock's window at the quad. As he did so, Spock realized that it wasn't so far from here that he had first kissed Nyota- _Cadet Uhura_, he reminded himself for what felt like the hundredth time. He may even be able to see the exact location from the window if he tried.

"Say, Spock," Pike said suddenly, and Spock looked up. "Did you hear anything last night?"

Spock froze. It was a moment before he could speak. He had forgotten...Captain Pike's quarters were directly across the hall from his.

She had slammed him into that door. He remembered it clearly.

"I do not know what you mean," Spock said. It was true- Pike could be talking about anything.

"I don't know...I heard some loud thumps. I think I heard screaming...my guess is that either someone was watching a horror movie or Lieutenant Jameson and his wife are fighting again."

Spock did not reply. He felt blood rush to the tips of his ears and quickly tried to quell it.

But he had a feeling Pike knew, by the way he was looking at him. He head was tilted to the side, a smirk playing about his mouth. Spock's heart pounded in his side. For all his talk of confessing himself, after the discussion with Cadet Uhura...he no longer wanted to.

"I thought it sounded awfully close, though," Pike continued. "So that excludes the Jamesons, they're clear down the hall. Are you sure you didn't hear anything with those Vulcan ears of yours?"

"I may have heard a noise, Captain," Spock admitted.

"Well? Where did it come from?" Pike asked.

"I do not know."

It was true...it could have come from either the living room or the bedroom. It was difficult to tell which scream Pike had heard.

Pike was grinning now.

"You know, Spock...I could've sworn it came from somewhere really close to our quarters."

"I cannot say, Captain," Spock replied.

"Oh, well..." Pike sighed and got up, but his grin was as wide as ever. "If you don't know who it was...I just wanted to know so I can tell them to keep it down. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole apartment building heard the fighting...movie...whatever it was."

Pike gave Spock, who was frozen in his seat, a knowing look.

After he left, Spock's hands clenched on the desk. How much did he know? It was clear he knew what the sound was...but did he knew _who_ it was? If he did, why not say so?

He didn't think Pike knew. If he did, he would have reported him- or at least said he knew as much. But one thing was for sure...he would have to be extra careful about Cadet Uhura now. If Pike somehow caught on by seeing them together, or recognized her voice...

They would be ruined.


	4. Pretend

**Chapter 4: Pretend**

Gaila did not come back until that evening.

Nyota had spent the day finishing the last of her homework. After the "discussion" with Spock, she found it somewhat easier to concentrate. They had a plan. As long as no one else found out about what had happened, everything would be fine. They would be able to act like it had never happened- at least to the outside world. But _she_ knew she couldn't escape the facts. And she knew he couldn't either.

And she was struggling to come to terms with what had happened.

It was just another Sunday spent doing homework. There was a full week ahead of her- simulations and classes, and she had to start studying for the exams coming up in a few short weeks. Schoolwork grounded her. Gave her a distraction. As long as she had something to do she could at least halfway convince herself everything was as normal.

So when Gaila did not mention that morning's incident when she came back, Nyota was relieved. She knew the Orion would not give up- she would persevere until she had the facts. Or at least _try_ to. Because no matter the amount of begging, silent treatment, or blackmail- Nyota had vowed never to tell a soul. Not only to preserve her own dignity but Spock's as well.

Expecting her roommate to abruptly ask the question at any time (as she was prone to do, since she thought spontaneity would surprise Nyota into telling) she waited on edge. Yet the question did not come. Gaila chatted away cheerfully about her latest conquest (which did not even come close to Nyota's) as she changed into her pajamas- which were really nothing more than panties and a practically see-through camisole. It appeared Nyota was not the only one pretending nothing had happened.

She had plenty to worry about without Gaila poking and prodding, anyway. The next morning she would see Spock for the first time since Saturday night in a professional capacity. She dreaded it.

When she woke up on Monday morning she was nervous. She readied for class, showering and dressing in her uniform- which had a high collar that, thankfully, concealed the rapidly darkening hickeys that stubbornly resided on her neck and collarbone area and refused to fade. For extra protection- and discretion- instead of her normal high ponytail, she let the back remain down, further concealing her neck and shoulders. It was out of caution, she told herself aloud- while her inner mind told her she was paranoid. But she could do this. She was a professional. Determined. Resilient.

_Scared_.

Could she _really_ do this? Would she truly be able to behave like nothing had happened?

She shook her head as if such an action would relieve her troubled mind. Of course she could! She was Nyota Uhura, soon-to-be lieutenant and officer in Starfleet, a militaristic peace-keeping organization that would allow her to go where she had dreamed of going since she was a little girl. To the stars.

She was a top student, leading in her field. An expert xenolinguist. A professional.

She could do this.

Back straight and shoulders squared, she left the dorm. Ten minutes later she walked into the simulation room in the computer sciences building.

Spock stood at the podium already, reading something on his PADD. She paused for a second in the doorway, hesitating. Then, taking a deep breath, she drove herself forward- her mind repeating a single chant: _I am not afraid...I am not afraid..._

He did not look up like he usually did when she entered, but she was sure he knew she was there. She walked right past him without a word, heading to her console and sitting down before it.

By the time class started five minutes later, the Commander had not looked up from his PADD. Only when the final bell rang did he set it aside and stand with his hands clasped behind his back to survey the class. Even then his eyes seemed to drift right over her unseeingly.

He began to lecture them on the day's assignment, describing the new methods they would be applying which were to be used in emergency situations when communications were down. Afterwards he stepped away from the podium and the students began to turn to their consoles, accessing the simulation program.

Nyota turned to hers also. She began to work- it would distract her. As long as she had an objective she could ignore the tall Vulcan observing the students' work. She could see him patrolling the aisles, hands behind his back and his uniform stretched tight over his chest- posture rigid. Dark eyes alert and looking for the cadets' many mistakes so he could correct them.

She noticed right away that Spock was steering clear of her console. It was strange...before today, she had never noticed how much attention he paid to her in class. He always looked up when she entered the room. If she was there before him he always nodded at her as he came in and took his place. When he lectured, his eyes met hers several times as he looked around the room. And he always seemed to hover close to her console to observe her work over her shoulder...

But not today. Now that these things were absent, she was realizing they had been there all along. For weeks. She hadn't even noticed.

She wasn't sure why she cared. It shouldn't matter to her if he paid her any attention. But it did, and now that he ignored her she found she was...disturbed.

As the day's simulations finished, the results were forwarded to Spock's computer. He graded them as they came in- speedily sending them back to the students.

When Nyota got hers she was flabbergasted.

This was unacceptable. The simulation had not been difficult- it was no different from many others they had done.

But a twenty-two out of thirty mark?

When the class ended she was furious. She had every intention of confronting him- asking how she had gotten this abysmal grade.

The students filed past the Commander, who stood beside the doorway. She took her time in shutting down her computer, still fuming. As soon as they were alone she turned to him.

"Cadet Uhura, you will be late," he said as he turned to his own console to key in a command to download the ungraded simulations to his PADD.

"I would like to know, _Commander_, why you gave me this grade," she said icily, pointing to her PADD.

"There were errors in your solution."

"What errors, if I may ask?" she asked. Spock stood from leaning over his console and turned to her. His dark eyes met hers unabashedly.

"You erred in several code translations. An unusual occurrence for you, Cadet," he said calmly. Her jaw clenched.

"I am not aware of any mistakes, sir. If I made any today they are ones I must make all the time."

"What are you suggesting, Cadet?" he asked coolly.

"I'm suggesting that despite what you said- you _are_ letting what happened affect my grades! You're grading me unfairly!" she accused.

"My grading scale has not changed, Cadet Uhura. I marked today's simulations in the same way I always do, including yours. Perhaps the issue here is not the grade I gave you but the fact that you were distracted today."

There was a silence. That may be true...she _had_ been distracted. She cleared her throat as she looked away, embarrassed.

"Cadet," Spock said, his voice lowered. "Perhaps it would be better if you transferred to another class for the final weeks of this quarter."

"No, I can't do that," Nyota said with a sigh, shaking her head. "It's just a few weeks, and that's not enough time to adjust to a new instructor. I'm used to your methods."

"If you are distracted your grades will suffer. I can speak to Lieutenant Hansen for you."

"No...I'll be fine." Nyota glanced up, her eyes meeting his. "I'm sorry, sir. I just...I'm still wrapping my mind around Saturday night. I'll be fine. I'll perform better on Friday." Their eyes met and an almost-warm silence fell between them.

His eyes lingered on her...and for the first time she thought she could see emotion in them. Was that _concern _she saw? For her? She had never paid enough attention to them to realize that they were so revealing...she would have to pay more attention in the future.

"I certainly hope so, Cadet," he said gently. "You should go." His words broke through the reverie she was in and she nodded as she turned to leave. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she almost ran into someone in the corridor.

"Whoa- watch it, Cadet!" said the man she recognized as Captain Pike. She knew who he was because she had wanted to be assigned to the Enterprise for well over three years now- and followed the news on it closely. She had seen pictures of the dashing middle-aged man before her. If she was not so distracted she would have been immensely pleased to meet him- after all, if she succeeded in her wishes she would soon be on his ship.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, standing at attention.

"That's alright, Cadet. Just be more careful. Carry on," Pike said, nodding at her. Nyota smiled thinly at him before continuing down the corridor with a slight frown curving her lips.

She had never gotten such a low mark in his class before. She _had_ been distracted. She was disappointed with herself. How could she let anything distract her? Her grades were far more important than what had gone on between her and Spock. She needed to pull her head out of the clouds- and the gutter- and stay away from the memories that haunted her constantly. That was the only way she would be able to get through this.

There was only three weeks of this torture left. Soon she would move on- and likely never see him again. She could handle it for that long.

_I can do this...I can do this..._

* * *

Christopher Pike was many things- a brave captain, decorated officer, an intellectual, charming, humorous...a man dedicated to Starfleet's cause...

Stupid was not on his list of superlatives.

When he first met Spock eight years before, the Vulcan was a cadet blasting his way easily through the academy- and earning degrees from other universities at the same time. The kid was brilliant. A genius even by Vulcan standards. Starfleet was absolutely tickled to have him among their ranks- to have stolen him right out from under the Science Academy's nose. He had bright prospects ahead of him. He was the greatest addition to Starfleet in years- maybe ever.

At the time, Pike was first officer on the Reliant, on shore leave on Earth. He was impressed by Spock- and wanted to secure him as soon as possible. There were rumors that Pike was going to get his own ship soon and he had every intention of securing the Vulcan before someone else could.

Spock had been so young- so unsure of himself. Nothing like the Vulcan the students saw now. He was an outsider and kept to himself, something Pike suspected had been the half-human's life story. He felt sorry for him. It couldn't be easy being the only Vulcan on campus.

So he took him under his wing. He gave the kid advice- helped him adjust. He seemed to be the only human willing to do so. It hadn't been easy to secure his trust at first, but eventually Spock listened to him. Learned from him. He began to become more confident- more sure of himself.

When Pike received the offer to captain the Enterprise he immediately accepted- and chose Spock as his first officer. Since they had to wait for the ship to be completed they both took up positions as instructors at the academy in the meantime.

But in the years he had known him, Pike had never known Spock to be with a woman. So when he heard the loud thumps and later the unmistakable feminine cries coming from Spock's quarters- he was shocked.

And yet...oddly proud. He considered Spock his protege. And he knew the Vulcan had to be lonely- no matter how illogical it was. Knowing that Spock had a girlfriend made Pike proud and happy for his soon-to-be first officer. He deserved to have somebody- to not be alone.

But now Pike wasn't so sure he should be proud.

He hadn't _meant_ to overhear the conversation. He had been on his way to Spock's classroom to go over the plans for the Enterprise's launch in a few months. The exchange he had heard between the Vulcan and his student was unsettling.

He had never in his wildest dreams thought _Spock_ of all people would dare cavort with a student. But judging by the words spoken...he had. The cadet had mentioned Saturday night. She _had_ to mean what he thought she meant. And Spock had been awfully evasive and shifty the day before- for a Vulcan anyway...and her voice did sound a little familiar...

Pike sighed. He was an honorable man- a Starfleet man. His brain told him he should report it to the authorities. His gut told him not to- and he trusted his gut as much as he did his brain.

Spock had too much potential for his future to be ruined. Pike wanted him as his first officer- the Vulcan had been highly coveted by all the captains in the fleet and he was damned lucky to have gotten him. And he was like a son to him.

Pike knew what he had to do. He stood in the hallway long after the cadet had disappeared around the corner- thinking.

He was damned no matter what he did. But he made the decision without hesitation- that was a trait important in Starfleet captains. One often couldn't afford to hesitate.

_Why_, he thought, would Spock make such a bad decision? He was anything but stupid. He knew better than to have relations with a cadet. And although the evidence pointed that way, Pike still had a hard time believing it. The Spock he knew simply _wouldn't_ risk everything for a woman. But...he couldn't just ask Spock about it. Not yet. Not when he didn't have the facts. He knew the younger man would only shirk from his blatant, intrusive questions. Subtlety was the key when it came to a Vulcan.

Forgetting all about the Enterprise plans he turned back to his own office. He knew what he had to do. He had her name- Cadet Uhura. He would look her up, see what her background was like. He was curious to find out just what type of woman could make _Spock_ break regulations- if that had indeed happened. She had to be one helluva catch for him to jeopardize his entire career for her. And yes, Pike knew it was more than that. He wanted to know- was _she_ worthy of _him_? He had to make sure this cadet...or woman...wasn't out to hurt Spock.

Once that was done he would observe them. He couldn't just act without knowing what was going on with absolute certainty. He couldn't just turn Spock over without a second thought. There had to be an explanation for what was going on- and once he was reasonably sure there _was_ something going on, he would broach the subject to his first officer. And not before then.

* * *

Spock left the greenhouse. He had spent almost all of Sunday there- and had gone back after classes that day.

He had the information he sought. It had taken two days to locate the drug in the pollen- two days of wearing a mask and leaning over the laboratory table, two days of inspecting the pollen through a microscope while the computer ran a chemical breakdown. Two days of wondering, waiting to know the answer...

The plant had come from a newly discovered solar system. The scientists who collected it had not suffered any adverse effects- and limited on time and supplies, had not bothered to study it closely. That explained why it had been left in the middle of the greenhouse where it could infect anyone- they had thought it to be harmless. They thought it was only an aesthetically pleasing flower. How very, very wrong they were.

But he had located it. The toxin that had affected him and Cadet Uhura. He had studied the particular chemical, isolating the components.

It was definitely a disinhibitor- affecting the portion of the brain that controlled the decision-making process.

As he walked across the quad in the falling darkness he pondered the implications of this discovery.

This meant she had desired him before Saturday night. She _did_ want him. This did not indicate the depths of her emotions for him- but he suspected they were not deep. Lust was powerful, but short-lived and shallow.

If she wanted him- as he was now sure she did- then why had she abandoned him the morning after their night together? Perhaps she had only panicked because of his superiority. He was her instructor, she his student. Of course her initial reaction would be to panic- that was the human instinct. It had overridden her senses, driving her away from him.

He was..._relieved_ to finally have an answer.

Still, it changed nothing. Now he knew he had not taken advantage of her through the toxin's effects. They had both been out of control- but their lust for each other had been real, not induced or coerced. It was genuine.

The question now was...should he tell her? Or allow her to continue believing the effects were akin to those of an aphrodisiac? If he told her, she would know yet another of his secrets...that he yearned for her. To kiss her. To touch her. To take her as his again. To stake his claim.

That thought was illogical. He already had a betrothed- a wife who was waiting for him when the time came. So why did he want to make _her_ his instead?

He did not understand himself. Why was this situation so bothersome to him? Why had he agonized over whether or not she felt the same burning desire for him as he did for her? It was only lust. Lust was fleeting. It was a desire of the flesh. So why did it bother him to think she had not felt the same? Why was he so content now with the knowledge that it was indeed reciprocated to some degree?

It was illogical to dwell on this. Knowing this information eased his mind- but held no other purpose. The situation was the same helpless dilemma as before.

That day had been difficult. It was the first time he had to see her in class. She had looked so lovely...she always did. But it was different now- he saw her in a different light. He had seen her in her most natural form, given her pleasure and taken his own as well. They had shared so much. He had developed an emotional connection with her during those few hours...not a telepathic connection, but an invisible one. A metaphorical bond. He wondered if she sensed it as well.

He had forced himself to stay away from her. He was afraid of what he may do or say if he became too close- or even let his eyes stay on her too long. Her natural scent mixed with jasmine had haunted him all day regardless, even though she had never been closer than three feet to him. He was...consumed by the memories of Saturday evening. They played in his mind, heating his blood more often that he would ever like to admit. It was difficult to think of anything else in her presence and he wondered if she was encountering the same difficulties as he was.

As he walked into his apartment building and entered the turbolift he recalled what had happened in that very spot two nights before. And he could only think one thing...

_ If only she were not his student..._

Perhaps his suggestion for her to transfer classes had been more than he originally thought...was it possible that he had somehow believed that if she was not his student it would change anything? It did not. It would not when she left his class at the end of the quarter, either. He was betrothed. She was not his. Nor would she ever be.

He tried to ignore the pang he felt at this thought. It was illogical. He did not understand it. There was no reason to regret it.

_It is only lust_...he told himself in vain.


	5. Complications

**Chapter 5: Complications**

Captain Pike stared at the computer screen before him, hands folded before his mouth as his elbows were propped up on the desk.

The cadet's credentials were impressive, to say the least.

She had graduated valedictorian from her high school in Tanzania. She had then gone on to graduate with honors from a top-notch linguistics university in Mozambique at the age of twenty-one. After that, records showed she spent a year as a government translator before joining Starfleet on the accelerated three-year program. Since then she had excelled and stood out from all other students- she was at the top of her graduating class.

Now at the tender age of twenty five, Nyota Uhura was fluent in a dozen Terran languages- and most of the known Federation ones as well.

She was a xenolinguistics prodigy.

It made perfect sense now. _They_ made perfect sense.

She was highly intelligent, beautiful, and from what he had heard earlier- tough. For Spock, she was probably a dream come true. Pike honestly did not think there was anyone more perfect for him.

Which presented a problem. Having relations with a student was _still_ forbidden- no matter how perfect for each other they might be.

Still, he could only imagine what their children would be like. Vulcan-human geniuses who spoke a hundred languages and could solve complex calculations in five seconds. The idea was somewhat intimidating.

Of course, that was assuming they were together at all. While a part of him- the part that didn't mind breaking rules- secretly hoped they were, he also _didn't_ want them to be. He wanted it all to be a figment of his imagination. For the first time in his life he wanted his gut instinct to be wrong. If they were involved it would place him right in the middle of a sticky situation.

He couldn't do anything- couldn't say a word- until he knew for sure. He didn't know how he was going to go about it. How to ascertain that his first officer was sleeping with a cadet without him finding out? And what would he say to the Vulcan if he _did_ discover they were involved? He already knew he couldn't report them- he would ruin not only Spock's career but that of this linguist as well, whose future appeared to be just as promising as his.

He approved of her as a match for him- he could tell Spock that much. But what advice could he give him other than that he should end it before they were caught by someone less partial than he was? They were in a dangerous position..._if_ they were together.

Finally making a decision, Pike stood from his desk. Part of him said to leave it alone, pretend he had noticed nothing out of the ordinary...but he couldn't do that. It would eat at him, especially if they were caught and punished. No...he would observe them when he could- both separately and together to determine what was going on. Maybe drop a name in conversation to catch a reaction...

That was the most he could do- and he honestly wasn't sure what he wanted the results to be.

* * *

It was Friday.

Spock had not seen Cadet Uhura since Monday, but that was not unusual. The linguistics wing where she attended most of her classes was clear on the other side of campus. Once she left his class permanently, he estimated there was a less than fifteen percent chance of his seeing her again before graduation.

He was both relieved and dismayed by this.

While his mind recognized her absence as a good thing, considering what had gone on between them- and the resulting discomfort for them both- his heart didn't appreciate not seeing her at all. He did not understand why he felt so torn- but he had given up trying to attain clarity on the situation after meditating all week without fruitful results. He could only maintain hope his desire for her would fade with her absence.

Now he waited at the podium in the empty simulation room, PADD before him. But he was not absorbing the data displayed on the screen as he usually did. He was listening for the telltale boots resounding in the corridor that always announced her arrival 20.3 seconds in advance.

His stomach clenched in anticipation, his hands tense where they rested before him. But his face was as carefully blank as it always was. There was no outward sign of how he felt- and the way he felt at the moment could only be described as "nervous" in human terms.

He had felt this way Monday also- and the day before that when he approached her for the first time following their Saturday escapade. He did not meet her gaze for fear that she may see it. He did not get too close to her for fear that she may sense his anxiety in his posture. She had been closer to him than any other being...he was reasonably sure she could now recognize the tiny nuances that betrayed him for what he was- half-human.

He was well aware of his shortcomings. His own mother had often commented that his eyes- which he had inherited from her- betrayed his feelings if he was not careful to shield them. There were times when his posture tensed with certain emotions- anger, anxiety, discomfort. His tone, never quite as even as that of other Vulcans, occasionally slipped and held the smallest inflections. So far no one at the academy had noticed these- with the possible exception of Captain Pike- but he was now sure she could as well. How could she _not_ recognize these after how close she had been to him- how intimately she had seen him?

Even if she did not...part of him almost wished she did.

Spock straightened as he heard the footsteps he'd been waiting for. The cadence was familiar after hearing it twice a week for sixteen weeks now. The stride perfectly matched her height and long legs, exuding confidence as the heels struck the floor with surety...

He did not realize he was holding his breath until she appeared in the doorway and it came out almost forcefully.

Her hair was partially down again- he preferred this style to her usual high ponytail. It reminded him of how she had looked _that_ night, her hair falling around her shoulders without restraint as she moved above him...

As if sensing what he was thinking, her dark eyes- soft and luminous- met his. He felt a jolt in the region of his stomach at the eye contact. She quickly averted her gaze- not noticing that she had paused in the doorway before continuing on to her console.

He reminded himself repeatedly not to look at her. No matter how much he may want to, it would not help matters if he did. He must attempt to _repress_ this strange desire- not fuel it. And every time his eyes fell on her that was what it did- it fed the flame, making it blaze higher and hotter.

The sooner she was gone from his class the better- perhaps he could once more gain peace of mind.

It was just like Monday. He stayed away from her console, not looking at her directly- although he did watch her from the corner of his eye. He was pleased to see that she was not glancing at him every thirty seconds as she had on Monday. Her eyes were trained on her simulation. But...while he knew it was much more important that she concentrate on the day's work, he found himself slightly annoyed that she was ignoring him entirely. It was as unexplainable as everything else he had experienced lately. He illogically desired for her to look at him- even if only briefly. A sign that she knew he was there, knew he was nearby- and was conscious of the fact.

He also found himself wishing that things were as they had once been. Before, he could comfortably stand near her console, engage her in conversation- admire her- without the tension that he could find no way to dissipate. But that was illogical- things couldn't be as they had once been. Everything was different now.

Spock was instructing a student on the proper usage of an emergency signal code when her voice came from behind him. Clear and soothing, utterly feminine and like music to his ears...it sent an imperceptible shiver down his spine.

"Commander? I need assistance."

It was a rarity when she asked for help- and even now she sounded hesitant about asking. He turned to face her. She was looking at him, but as his eyes met hers they lowered under long, gently curved lashes. They reminded him of butterfly wings. _Illogical_, he thought, quickly dismissing the image. He went to her side, looking down at the console screen.

"What is the problem, Cadet?" he asked.

"I think the issue is with the simulation itself, sir. When I reached level four it shut down," she replied. He glanced over at her profile- her eyes were trained on the screen again, determinedly not looking at him.

"Let me examine your station." He leaned over- he was very close to her. Her pleasant scent pervaded his senses- jasmine and her natural aroma. He inhaled it contentedly as he brought up the command panel. "It appears to be a console malfunction. It should not take long to correct."

He leaned over further to use the touchpad and their arms touched. He felt her tense up- but she did not pull away. Neither did he. Although there was no need to be this close- let alone touch her- it did not bother him. The slight pressure of her arm against his was...satisfying. He had not been this close to her since the previous weekend...he found that he had desired this closeness more than anything else.

He could not feel her skin through his uniform shirt, but he could imagine how the cool silkiness would feel against his. He'd felt it already- knew how soft and smooth it was. He was finding it increasingly difficult to be this close to her- her scent so strong and changing subtly- her breathing and heartbeat clearly audible at this short distance. Yet he did not pull away.

He was disappointed when the issue was fixed quicker than he would have liked.

Straightening, he looked down at her. This time she looked back- he saw that her pupils were dilated and noted that her heart and respiration rates were higher than was normal...she was..._aroused_. He did not know what he had done to arouse her but he was...pleased.

"You should not experience further glitches, Cadet Uhura," he said. She nodded once and he heard her clear her throat quietly as she turned back to the console.

"Thank you, sir," she said, voice tighter than usual. He caught her scent again- yes, definitely aroused. There was no mistaking it- he recognized the scent.

When he turned away, he found himself face-to-face with the grinning, green-skinned Orion from his advanced programming class.

"Cadet Gaila," he acknowledged. He was fairly certain that the Orion was also Cadet Uhura's roommate...she was a promising student, although lacking in concentration. Quite unlike her friend. "May I assist you in something?"

"Yes, sir. Commander Brighton wanted me to bring the PADD he borrowed from you," she said as she held out the aforementioned device. As she always did when in his presence, her eyes roamed over his body. He was never comfortable with this but attributed it to her overly-sexual Orion biology and therefore dismissed it.

"Is there anything else?" he asked when she still stood before him. She looked around the simulation room, her eyes falling on Cadet Uhura, to whom she gave a 'wink' to.

"No, that's all, Commander," Cadet Gaila said cheerfully before turning around and leaving the room with a little wave in the direction of a cluster of male cadets who gaped after her.

Spock returned to his routine, patrolling the aisles with his hands clasped behind his back. This time he did not stay away from Cadet Uhura's console- he passed it and observed her work as he did everyone else's. She did not look up at him again, as she was engrossed in her assignment. He found himself slightly disappointed.

When he sat down to grade the finished simulations he was pleased to find that she had earned full marks this time. This, despite their slight distraction when her console malfunctioned...

He was even more pleased when she nodded at him as she left, a small smile curving her full lips. He felt another jolt in his stomach at this, but did not show it as he nodded back at her. He was full of..._warmth_ as he returned to his office for the break period, ruminating over the events of that morning. It appeared they were slowly easing back into a professional rapport- with an unspoken agreement forming between them.

He sat at his desk to begin the markings on the last of the simulations.. He was in the middle of these gradings when the door chimed.

"Enter," he said and the door slid open. Spock looked up. "Commander Ripley."

"Hello, Spock," said the elderly man with a wide smile. Ripley always used Spock's name, despite the fact that he had never given him permission. But as he was far older than Spock at seventy-three and was therefore his elder, he said nothing.

A xenolinguistics expert who had retired to teaching only ten years before after a lengthy and accomplished career in Starfleet, Ripley was a legend in his field. Now the toughest linguistics instructor at the academy, he took only the very best of students on the communications track. He also headed a program that allowed his students practice with real incoming transmissions in the lab, something Spock knew Cadet Uhura would appreciate. Which was why he had recommended it to her- and her to Commander Ripley, who promptly accepted her. Of course he would have accepted Cadet Uhura anyway- her credentials spoke for themselves. But Spock's recommendation sealed her in his esteem.

"May I ask why you are here?" Spock asked, leaning back.

"Well, you may _ask_..." Ripley said with a grin. Spock stared back at him. "It's a joke, Spock," he explained with a short laugh.

"Humor. It is a difficult concept," Spock replied stonily.

"Anyway...I came to ask for a favor," Ripley said as he sat down across from Spock's desk. "I'm sure you've heard that Ensign Davis is joining active duty on the Farragut at the end of this quarter?"

"I am not familiar with your assistant or his doings."

"Well...he was the computer programmer in charge of taking care of the lab consoles. Since he's leaving, I was hoping you could fill in if you have the time. You'd have to cover shifts in the lab and oversee the work of the cadets- but I would appreciate it if you could. Honestly, you're the only one left at this academy I'd trust with it. I know you're not a communications instructor but you _are_ familiar with how it works and with the codes. So what do you say?"

Spock was silent for a moment, regarding the man before him. He _did_ have available time and was always looking for ways to fill it. This would be an opportunity to do so- and he respected Ripley, who respected him as well. Ripley would undoubtedly help _him_ if he were in need...and he could also tell the human was desperate, his blue eyes locked on Spock's as he awaited the answer.

"Very well. I will assist you as long as it does not conflict with my schedule," Spock finally replied. A relieved smile spread over Ripley's face.

"Thank you! I was half-afraid I'd have to get someone else and they would only prove to be inadequate- you know I run a tight lab. Most people can't handle the pressure I put on them."

He stood, still smiling, before thanking Spock again and leaving.

It wasn't until after he was gone that Spock realized Cadet Uhura would be among the students he would have to oversee. He had thought he would not see her any more...had counted on it, actually. And he realized with a sinking feeling in his heart that the situation had just become more complicated than it already was.

* * *

Nyota sighed in relief as she entered the dorm and pulled off her boots. Stretching her toes and enjoying the freedom another weekend would bring, she sat on her bed.

"I'm so glad this week is over," she muttered to herself as she reached up to take out the clip holding her hair back. She knew this first week was the toughest in regards to Spock- things could only get easier from then on out. Even today she had noticed a marked difference in their behavior toward one another. They had met each other's gaze more than once...he had observed her work and she had remained concentrating throughout the entire session. A definite improvement. They were slowly returning to their previous detached familiarity.

Except for that one moment...when he'd been so close to her. She'd felt the heat from his arm even through his sleeve- launching her into a tide of memories without warning. She'd barely paid attention as he fixed the glitch in her console. Her mind had drifted back to Saturday. She could smell that clean masculine scent as he leaned over her; his heat encompassing her, radiating from his too-warm, muscular body that was so utterly perfect...

Even now she felt herself heat up at the thought of how close his body had been to hers.

She couldn't wait to be out of his class. That would put an end to it. The farther away she was, the better.

The door slid open again and Gaila skipped inside- literally _skipped_- with a wide smile plastered on her face.

"Guess wha-a-a-a-t?" she asked in a singsong voice.

"What?" Nyota asked unenthusiastically- certain that her roommate was about to regale her with another story about how she had just had sex with another hot cadet.

"I know who you were with last Saturday night," Gaila said with a happy smile as she plopped down onto her bed, red curls bouncing.

"Oh really?" Nyota rolled her eyes. Gaila had not said a word all week about Sunday morning- but she'd known it was coming sooner or later. Now she would probably list off every cadet in the academy in an attempt to find out who she'd been with that fateful, lusty night.

"Yes, I really do!" Gaila seemed proud of herself as she beamed across the room at Nyota.

"Well, then who was it?" Nyota asked- suddenly a little wary. What if Gaila _did_ somehow know? But that thought was preposterous. How could she have found out? _I must be paranoid_, she thought to herself.

"Okay," the Orion said, still grinning. She drew herself up as she prepared to tell- and despite herself Nyota leaned forward, holding her breath.

"You slept with Commander Spock!"

_Shit_.


	6. What Are Friends For?

**Chapter 6: What Are Friends For?**

Nyota stared at Gaila, her brain working fast.

"_What_?" she asked, trying to sound as incredulous as possible. She wasn't sure if she pulled it off, because Gaila's smile widened.

"You heard me. You banged the Commander. Did the dirty. Rode his joystick. Tamed the wild horse. Bounced on the pogo-stick. Hid the salami, did the horizontal mambo, laid the pipe, rumpled the foresk-"

"No! No, I heard you- but I have no idea where you got that idea from," Nyota said quickly, putting her hands over her ears to drown out what she knew would be a never-ending list of increasingly profane sex terms.

She was cool and collected on the outside- but inwardly she was panicking. How did Gaila know? Had someone seen them and told her? She and Spock were about to get into trouble! What would happen to their reputations- their careers?!

The questions tumbled over each other in her mind, each vying for an answer. Her mouth felt dry and she realized her hands were trembling. She quickly hid them in her lap so Gaila wouldn't see.

"Don't act all coy. I know it for a fact!" Gaila said perkily as she reclined on her bed, still beaming at her roommate.

"How so?" Nyota managed to cough out, her heart racing. Then deciding that sounded too suspicious, she quickly changed her tone. "I mean- I could have been with anyone. Why did you think of _him_ of all people?"

"Easy," Gaila said with a dreamy sigh, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "When you came home last Saturday you _reeked_ of pheromones. I knew you'd been having hot, heavy hard butt-booty sex even before turning the lights on and seeing your clothes."

"That doesn't prove anything," Nyota said defensively, allowing her body to relax slightly. Maybe Gaila's mind had only leaped to him because she'd seen them together earlier that day...

"True. But I also noticed the male pheromones- you were covered in both yours and his, by the way. You really should have showered before coming back to the dorm. But anyway, I noticed that while the scent seemed _almost_ human, it wasn't _quite_ human. At the time I thought maybe I was just coming down with one of your Terran colds and my sense of smell was impaired. But _then_..." She grinned, dragging the words out slowly.

"Then what?" Nyota prompted, her heart sinking in her chest.

"_Then_...I walked into your subspace class and the Commander was leaning _really_ close to you. Even touching your arm, which I know is a big deal for a Vulcan. And you were both radiating pheromones from a mile away. I smelled it as soon as I walked in. Uh hmm...you had his scent _all_ over you last weekend," she said, pointing to Nyota and working her finger around in a circle.

"_Both_ of us? Are you sure it wasn't just me?" Nyota asked, forgetting that she was supposed to be flat-out denying everything. Gaila gave her a strange look.

"Definitely. That's how I knew it was the Commander you saw last Saturday- I recognized his pheromone signature. He was practically _glowing_ with it."

Nyota digested this information for a moment...he had been hot and bothered too, even if he hadn't shown it. That meant...

"So will you stop denying it already? I caught you red-handed!" Gaila said, smiling triumphantly. Then her smile turned mischievous. "Or should I say green pen-"

"You can't tell a soul," Nyota said flatly, cutting her off. "That means _no one_, Gaila. Not even a blank wall. Keep it to yourself or we'll both be court-martialed."

"You know I wouldn't do that," the Orion said, looking slightly offended. Nyota shot her a look and she huffed. "Fine. So how long has this hot little affair with the sexy Vulcan instructor been going on? I have to give you credit for banging an instructor- not even _I_ would dare do that. That takes nerve." She grinned mischievously. "And balls."

"Neither would I," Nyota shot back hotly. "You know I wouldn't dare. What happened was..." She hesitated. "Well, it was an accident."

"An accident?" Gaila asked disbelievingly. "The only way it was an accident is if you both somehow happened to be naked and you tripped and fell on his-"

"I'm serious! It shouldn't have happened. It was a huge mistake- Commander Spock and I both agreed on that!" Nyota said in exasperation.

"You still call him _Commander_ after seeing him naked? By the way- is his body half as hot as that uniform makes it look? I have to know! How big is _it_?" Gaila sat up eagerly, eyes wide with excitement. Nyota sighed.

"Please, please don't turn this into one of your perverted fantasies. I'm not telling you a thing. This is a serious situation. If we're caught he could be expelled from Starfleet and I'd might as well go too because it would go right on my record and ruin my career. This is _not_ something to be taken lightly or as a joke."

"Alright," the Orion said, laying back down in disappointment. "So how was this an 'accident'?" She raised her hands and made quotation marks in the air as she rolled her eyes.

Nyota took a deep breath and told Gaila the story- how she had met with Spock at the banquet and he offered to walk her home. How she had decided to stop at the greenhouse, where they were infected with an unknown plant- which ended with her waking up the next morning in the Commander's quarters. She left out the juicy details, much to Gaila's disappointment.

"So you were under the effects of some weird plant," Gaila concluded. Nyota nodded. "Well, do you regret it?"

"Regret it!" Nyota stared at her friend. "Haven't you been listening to me! I was sort-of coerced into having sex with my instructor and things have been beyond awkward between us since then!"

"Okay, let's put it this way." Gaila sat up, crossing her legs and clearing her throat. "Let's make up a hypothetical situation. Say you and the Commander meet up with this plant- but he isn't your instructor. In fact, you're not even in Starfleet. You're just an average xenolinguist and he's just an average Vulcan. And then this happens. Would you still have panicked the next day? Would you be moping about it now?"

Nyota hesitated, looking away from the Orion. "I don't know..."

"Of course not," Gaila answered for her. "You would be with him right now, vulcanizing the whoopee stick and heating up the whole city."

Nyota tried to open her mouth and deny this...but the words just wouldn't come out. Gaila smirked and she groaned aloud. Really, where had the Orion picked up all these damn sex euphemisms?

"See? So the only thing you regret is his being your superior. Am I correct?"

"It doesn't matter, Gaila. He _is_ my instructor, and we're in a precarious situation." Nyota leaned forward, tucking her legs up against her chest and hugging them. "With the way we behaved, I'm surprised we haven't been called out already."

"What do you mean, the way you behaved?" Gaila asked quickly.

"Nothing," Nyota replied, shaking her head. "We were just...a little amorous in the hallways."

Gaila's eyes glazed over as she let her imagination run rampant.

"So you're not going to say anything to anyone, right?" Nyota asked anxiously. There were times when her roommate talked a little too much after a few Slusho Mixes...

"Not once we discuss my terms," Gaila said, coming out of her reverie.

"Terms?" Nyota asked warily.

"Terms," she repeated, nodding her head. "I won't tell anyone as long as you answer one question- and I promise it won't be too graphic."

"Gaila, that's not fair!" Nyota said. She was fairly certain her friend wouldn't tell anyway- but there was still a shred of doubt. She never knew with Gaila...

"Just one question!" Gaila said. "And my lips are sealed."

Nyota took a deep, shuddering breath. "Fine. Ask." She winced, fighting back the urge to hide her face in her pillow as Gaila grinned again.

"Okay. All I want to know is...is he any good in bed?"

"Gaila!" Nyota had known the question would be along these lines, but she really didn't want to answer it.

"That bad, huh?" Gaila sighed. "I'm not surprised. Vulcan control and all that."

"I didn't say that!" she cried.

"So he was good?" The Orion's face brightened.

"I'm not answering that," Nyota said and felt her face heat up. She didn't want to reveal any of Spock's private business- and that detail was included. He would be appalled if she told Gaila so much as a word.

"Oooh! He must be _really_ good!" Gaila jumped up, doing a little dance of triumph. "I knew it! I _knew_ Commander Spock was a stud under all that Vulcan reserve!"

As embarrassed as she was, Nyota couldn't disagree.

"Thanks a lot, Gaila," she muttered.

"What are friends for?" Her roommate grinned again. "Plus, you had all those hickeys on your neck."

* * *

Nyota stared at Spock as he walked among the students in his normal posture- hands behind back, spine as straight as an arrow, shoulders squared.

She thought about what Gaila had said. They had _both_ been radiating pheromones that Friday. They _both_ had been turned on by their proximity to each other. This meant he _was_ attracted to her.

She wondered if the accidental-arm-touching had been truly accidental. There hadn't been any need for him to be that close in the first place- he could have asked her to move. He had not. So she stayed where she was for admittedly selfish reasons- wanting to feel that body heat soak into her like it had that Saturday...

_He wanted her._ The thought was strange when applied to the strict Vulcan before her...yet it also made her feel oddly smug. So it wasn't only her- it wasn't one-sided. He'd wanted it too. She had somehow managed to get past those emotional barriers- at least enough to incite lust in her instructor. She had succeeded where so many other women wanted to prevail but didn't stand a chance.

And yet...she also felt a twinge of guilt. The fact that he had confided in her bespoke of deeper feelings than what she held for him...she doubted he would tell such secrets to just anyone, even _if_ under the effects of a drug. She was attracted to him, true, and she admired him for who he was. But anything deeper than that? No...

She watched through lowered eyelashes as he neared her. This was the last time she was going to see him in class...three weeks had passed since the Saturday night that changed everything, two since Gaila found out. Today was the last day of final exams...she was finished with hers already and in ten minutes the bell would ring and she would be free of him. Free to go back to her normal life. Free to finally forget about it without _him_ as a constant reminder.

She had been teased mercilessly the last two weeks- Gaila simply would not leave her in peace about Spock. Nyota loved her friend, she really did. But sometimes Gaila was just too much. All Nyota wanted was to forget it had ever happened- but her roommate seemed determined to not let that happen. Not a day went by when she did not comment on her "hot instructor boyfriend" or on how awesome he must be in bed to make Nyota blush so deep her skin darkened whenever he was mentioned. She wished the Orion had not found out...but she should have known she would.

"Cadet Uhura are you finished?" he asked quietly, startling her out of her thoughts as he stopped at her console.

"Yes, sir," she replied, looking up and meeting his eyes. He held the gaze. His eyes were a rich brown, surrounded with long, thick dark lashes...she could easily get lost in their depths.

There was no knowing how long they looked at each other. She lost all sense of time...his eyes were surprisingly _warm_ as they looked at her. Over the last few weeks she had learned to pay attention to those eyes- to his body language. She was learning that he often slipped and showed what he was feeling unintentionally. But this...she had no name for the softness those eyes held.

She knew it was a good thing to get away from him and his class, and yet...at the moment all she wanted was to stay there. Forever.

The bell suddenly rang, and Nyota tore her eyes away from his at last. Clearing her throat she stood and picked up her bag. She then turned to Spock...knowing this would be the last time.

"Commander, it was a pleasure being in your classes these two quarters," she said. The pang she felt as she said this was unaccountable. She'd known this was coming- and knew it was for the best. So why did she suddenly wish she wasn't going?

"You are an excellent student and I am sure you will achieve all you set out to do," Spock replied, inclining his head to her as the other students left the simulation room chatting loudly and exclaiming over the fact that the quarter was over.

"Thank you, sir."

"I am only stating a known fact, Cadet," he replied, but she saw the corners of his lips quirk upwards the tiniest amount. She had found that this was his way of smiling. She gave him one of her own smiles and adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

"Of course. Vulcans don't give out compliments," she said.

"No, they do not."

"But what about half-Vulcans?" she asked, voice lowered even though they were now alone.

"That remains to be seen," Spock replied. He drew his hands behind his back again. "Do you have plans for this evening, Cadet?"

Strangely- illogically- her heart suddenly leaped into her throat and she stopped fidgeting with the strap of her bag. Was it possible...?

"I don't think so," she replied. Although she knew it made no sense, she began to hope...

"Traditionally, cadets go to places that serve alcohol after exams. If you do so, I suggest you not become too intoxicated."

Her heart sank...which made no sense. Of _course_ he wasn't about to ask her out! Why would she even consider that crazy idea? It didn't matter if she wasn't technically his student anymore...he was still Vulcan and still her superior. She wanted to kick herself. Why had she _wanted_ him to be asking her on a date, anyway? Did Vulcans- or half-Vulcans for that matter- even _date_?

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," she said, her smile a little tighter than before. "I should get going."

"Have a good day, Cadet," he said. Their eyes met again, and she got the fleeting impression that he was going to say something further...but didn't. She held the gaze for several more long seconds before finally giving another forced smile and quickly exiting the room.

* * *

Nyota was pensive the whole way back to her dorm, walking slowly with one hand on her bag as the other cadets swarmed around her releasing the post-quarter steam by shouting and laughing loudly, jostling her in their rush to get by.

She couldn't explain it. Why had her mind jumped to the conclusion that _Spock_ of all people was about to ask her out? Just because they'd had sex and were attracted to each other didn't mean they were obliged to go out...and even if they were, _he_ wouldn't know that.

It took her longer than usual to get to her dorm and when she got there Gaila was rummaging through their closet.

"Are you coming with me tonight?" she asked, her voice muffled as she bent over looking for a pair of shoes.

"I don't know...I was thinking of staying in," Nyota said. Usually, they went out to a bar together for a few hours to celebrate the end of the exams...but tonight she didn't really feel up to it.

"Oh, come on! We always go out!" Gaila's face looked pained as she turned to Nyota. "Why not now? Unless you're marching over to the Commander's quarters and giving him some, you have to go!"

"I'm just tired. I studied a lot this week and just want to go to bed," Nyota said as she slid off her boots.

"Hey...why _aren't_ you going to the Commander's? You're not his student any more. You can't get into trouble." Gaila sat down next to her. "Why not go over there and get some more?"

"It's not that simple, Gaila," Nyota said with a smile, shaking her head.

"Well, if you're too afraid to do that, then you're coming with me!" Gaila said, clutching at Nyota's arm. "It's tradition! I thought humans stand by their traditions?"

At the mention of tradition, Nyota remembered Spock's words from half an hour before..._how_ could she have been so stupid as to actually think he wanted to ask her out? The mere thought made her want to kick herself.

"You know what...after everything that's happened the last few weeks, I think I do need a few drinks," Nyota said thoughtfully.

"That's my girl!" The Orion patted her head affectionately. "We can find you a one-night stand to get your mind off the Vulcan."

"No," Nyota said flatly. "I'm not going that far. One one-night stand in three weeks is enough for me. I just want to relax, get a little buzzed, and come back. Got it?"

"Fine," Gaila sighed. "At least I can get you to do that much. I can't get you to go out any other time."

"End of the quarter drinking is fine. I just don't think it's a good idea to indulge every weekend," Nyota said. She got up and went to the closet. "Which dress should I go with? Red or black?"

"Neither. How about gold?" Gaila said, a wicked grin spreading on her face. "The men won't know what hit them."

Nyota turned back to the closet, a small smile curving her lips. This was what she needed- to relax, unwind. This would give her a chance to forget about Spock- at least for one night.

**A/N: Most of the sex euphemisms are courtesy of LadyFangs :) **


	7. Observance

**Chapter 7: Observance**

The bar was loud; the music echoing Nyota's heartbeat with every deep, bone-rattling pulse. It pounded in her ears and made her head ache. All around her was the press of a drunken crowd dancing, talking, and laughing...the smells of bodies and sweat were in the air. It was like every other bar she'd ever been in, but this particular one was the hotspot for the academy. This was where the cadets always went when looking for a good time- and some of the instructors too.

Gaila led her through the mass of sweaty, alcohol-reeking people to the bar. Nyota felt many pairs of eyes following them as they passed but was unsure if it was because of her or Gaila.

"Two Slusho Mixes, please," the Orion said, batting her eyelashes at the bartender- a middle-aged man with a straggly goatee and sallow skin. He eyed them; first Gaila, who wore a black dress that showed far more skin than it concealed, and then at Nyota. His eyes roved over her, taking in the gold dress she wore. Feeling self-conscious she tried her best to cover the plunging neckline that dipped between her breasts with one arm.

"It's on the house," he said a few minutes later, setting two Slusho Mixes before the waiting women. He winked at them before turning away. Nyota wasn't sure if she should be flattered or disgusted.

"I _told_ you," Gaila said smugly. "You look hot. I think he was more interested in you than me."

"Somehow that idea doesn't appeal to me," Nyota said with a smile as she turned to survey the crowd, drink in hand.

"Oooh, if only your Vulcan could see you now," Gaila said, leaning against the bar. "He would probably take you into the alleyway and lift you up against a wall to ravage you."

"First of all, he's not _my_ Vulcan," Nyota said, rolling her eyes. "Second of all, he would never do that."

"A few weeks ago you never thought he would bone a student either, did you?"

"_Bone_?" Nyota asked, eyebrows rising high as she looked at Gaila over the rim of her glass.

"It's a quaint twenty-first century term humans used." Gaila shrugged. "Hurry up and finish that so we can dance!"

"No dancing," Nyota said firmly. "I just want to sit here and have a few drinks before heading back."

"That's no fun," Gaila said, frowning. "And I plan on staying awhile, so you have to stay too. You might as well cut loose and dance a little while you're at it."

"If I have to, I'll walk back alone," Nyota replied, taking a sip of her Slusho Mix. "The academy's not far from here."

"Oh, but _there are drunk cadets about and you'll need to be escorted across campus_," Gaila teased, repeating the words she'd told her Spock said. "And the Commander isn't here to walk you back."

"Shut up," Nyota muttered, raising her glass to her lips and draining it in one fluid motion. The bartender winked at her again as he refilled it. She gave him a strained smile, suddenly wishing she hadn't worn the gold dress after all. It was as short as her uniform skirts and the neckline barely covered her breasts...she'd already caught several men ogling her.

She sat on a bar stool and Gaila sat beside her, legs crossed. The Orion tapped her foot in time to the music, arms folded over her chest as she looked around the room with a bored expression on her face.

"Come on- we can't just sit here!" she finally blurted out as Nyota finished her second Slusho and held up a hand to stop the bartender from refilling it. Slusho Mixes were strong drinks and her surroundings were already fading in and out of clarity, her limbs feeling oddly light as her head buzzed pleasantly. Plus, she was getting warm.

"That's enough," she said. Then she turned to her roommate. "I never said you had to stay with me. If you want to dance, go dance."

"But then I wouldn't be a good friend." Gaila frowned deeply, eyebrows drawn together.

"Really, Gaila. Go."

The Orion only shook her head again as someone sidled up to them.

"Uhura! Always nice to see you." Blue eyes swept over the two women.

"Jim Kirk. Not a pleasure, as always," Nyota said with a strained smile.

"I'm getting a sense of deja vu here, Uhura," Kirk said, giving her his trademark cocky smirk. "We met just like this."

"And you're _still_ only a hick who has sex with farm animals," Nyota replied, a genuine smile twitching across her lips.

She didn't see Jim Kirk often. They had no classes together and other than a few glimpses in the hallways or in the mess hall, she didn't have to put up with him. But occasionally- like now- he popped up out of nowhere to annoy her further. And on the rare occasion he could be somewhat amusing.

"_Still_ haven't gotten that first name. And we've known each other for what, three years now?" Kirk sighed exaggeratedly as he leaned closer to her, elbow resting on the bar. "That's a shame."

"Only for you, farm boy," Nyota said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head but unable to hide her smile. She really wasn't attracted to his cocky attitude- she didn't like any man who thought he could have any woman he wanted just by saying a few smooth lines and smiling charmingly. She preferred men with subtlety, men who were interested in brains as well as looks. Men who didn't sleep with half the academy and believe they could have what they wanted at the snap of their fingers...

"Are you really never going to tell me?" he asked.

"No, I'm not." Nyota looked past him at Gaila, who seemed disgruntled about being ignored. "Kirk, this is Gaila."

He turned to her and a smile spread across his face. "I don't think we've met. I'm Jim." He flashed her his grin and the look he used to seduce many a willing woman. "Jim Kirk."

Nyota rolled her eyes again and smiled as he now leaned closer to Gaila, who was smiling up at him as she twirled a strand of red hair around one finger and looked him up and down.

Knowing she'd just lost her friend for the night- but pleased to be rid of Kirk- Nyota turned on her stool and looked around. Overhead lights pulsed on the dance floor in time with the wild tempo of the music, the beams piercing through the otherwise dimly-lit room to flash against the floor and outline the dancing bodies. The noise pressed in on her- deafening, making her body hum with the music and sounds of a hundred people mingling...

Her eyes moved slowly over the crowd, not really paying attention to what she was seeing...until they fell on two people at the entrance. Suddenly it had just become entirely too cramped in the bar.

"Gaila," she said, voice tight. She could hear the Orion still flirting with Kirk. Turning, she saw that they were completely absorbed in one another. "_Gaila_," she repeated with more urgency.

Gaila finally looked at her. "What?" she asked impatiently.

"We need to go. _Now_," she replied tersely.

"Why?"

Nyota jerked her head toward the entrance. Gaila followed her gaze- and her jaw dropped.

"It's destiny!" she exclaimed. "Wasn't I just _saying_-?"

"We're _going_," Nyota said flatly, getting out of her seat and seizing her friend's arm.

"No way! I'm staying- if you want to go, then go. I'm going to dance with Jim." Gaila turned back to Kirk, who was watching the exchange with puzzlement. She took his arm and led him away. He cast once last quizzical glance at Nyota before they disappeared, consumed by the press of bodies and flashing lights.

Panicking, Nyota glanced again at the entrance. Then she stopped cold.

It was too late. He'd seen her. And now Spock and Captain Pike were making their way toward her.

* * *

Spock had not wanted to go. At all. When Captain Pike showed up unexpectedly at his quarters and invited him along to "relax" he'd politely refused. Pike had continued to insist- rather forcefully- until he finally gave in just to appease him. He'd had no plans that evening other than meditation and the grading of final exams.

This was not his first experience at an establishment such as this. He'd been to these Terran bars before, having been dragged along by his former roommate. He did not enjoy them. The music was entirely too loud and hurt his already-sensitive ears. He did not consume alcohol; therefore there was no logical reason to make an appearance at a place whose primary purpose was the serving of alcoholic beverages. Nor did he dance, like so many intoxicated individuals were currently doing while blocking the way for anyone who may wish to pass through. He did not know any of the drunken people surrounding him, which added to his reluctance to socialize.

Spock entered the bar behind the captain and looked around. His time could be better spent. He could be catching up on the scientific journals he'd fallen behind on, or playing his _ka'athyra_. Any other logical pastime that did not require going to a place he had no desire to be at.

Then his gaze fell on a group of three people across the room by the bar- and suddenly his presence at this establishment did not seem so undesirable.

As he watched, Cadet Gaila and the male she'd been conversing with headed toward the dance floor, leaving the woman who'd captured his attention alone.

"Let's go to the bar, Spock," Pike said before leading their way through the crowd. Spock kept his eyes on Cadet Uhura as they neared. Her gaze met his briefly and he saw her stiffen on her seat, her face frozen as she stared back blankly. She was alarmed by his approach.

When they arrived at the bar they were right next to her. Pike leaned over and ordered himself a drink.

"I'm going to mill around a bit, Spock. Just stay here," Pike said once he had his drink.

And then they were alone.

She hadn't said a word since he arrived to stand beside her. She was facing the bar again, hands folded in front of her as she stared determinedly forward. He did not mind this...it gave him a chance to observe her.

The shiny gold fabric of her dress complimented her skin tone perfectly; it made her already-radiant skin glow even more as it brought out the caramel undertones. The skirt was short, displaying her well-toned legs. The cloth clung to her form, the neckline revealing her breastbone while giving teasing glimpses of the sides of her breasts. He'd never seen her wear such attire before...it was extremely distracting and very becoming.

It was difficult for him to tear his eyes off her. He took in a deep breath, calming himself...he had not been prepared to encounter her. It had not crossed his mind that Pike may bring him to the same place where she was celebrating the end of exams. He was surprised...but he could not deny he was also pleased.

"Cadet Uhura," he said. In his mind he allowed himself to call her Nyota. He could not possibly think of her as 'Cadet Uhura' while she was dressed in such a way, no matter what he addressed her as out loud. "This is unexpected."

"You could say so," she replied, resolutely keeping her eyes forward. "I didn't know you went to bars, Commander."

"It is not part of my normal routine," he admitted. "Captain Pike asked me to accompany him. I did try to refuse but he would not accept that answer."

She cleared her throat, shifting in her chair as she crossed her legs. His gaze lingered on the long limbs...he remembered how they felt as they wrapped around him, and the feel of her smooth thighs under his hands as he ran them all over her body. He allowed his eyes to wander upward, to her chest. The skin she so daringly flaunted was skin he'd kissed, caressed, left his mark on...although the small spots were now faded to nonexistence.

Suddenly he didn't like that she'd worn this in a public place. Especially not a public place in which drunken males searched for their next sexual encounter. Why had she worn it? Was she attempting to attract one of those males? He did not like this idea at all. She shouldn't dress like this for strangers. She should only look this way for _him._

He blinked, surprised at this strange thought. She was not his...and yet he so often seemed to forget that fact.

"I'm surprised you gave in to him," Nyota said, drawing him out of his thoughts and into the present. It took him a moment to remember what they had been discussing.

"Captain Pike can be a very persuasive man," Spock replied. She finally turned to look at him, her eyes meeting his.

"How do you know him, anyway?" she asked.

"I am set to become the first officer on the Enterprise," Spock replied. "He is my captain and I have known him since being at the academy as a cadet."

She straightened again on her stool, her nervousness fading quickly. He could tell he had peaked her interest.

"The Enterprise?" she asked.

"Yes, the newest starship which is nearing its launch date."

"I _know_ that- I've been aiming to be assigned to the Enterprise for three years!" she said as her face brightened, a smile forming on her lips. He'd never seen her so joyous before. It was a complete transformation from the reluctant woman who'd sat beside him for the last several minutes.

Spock was not sure how he felt about her hope to be aboard the Enterprise...he'd thought he would not see her again after graduation. It was bad enough that he would soon see her once more every week in the lab, a fact he believed her to be unaware of. But her credentials were certainly enough to get her a position on the Enterprise...

He was both pleased and wary of the idea of them working together for years to come.

But they'd found a common interest. He listened to her pleasant voice and watched her features glow as she spoke about the Enterprise, exclaiming over its brand-new communications abilities and her hope to someday become the Chief Communications Officer. She'd never been so forward with him- never shared her hopes and dreams. For the moment it was as if that fateful Saturday had not happened- that they'd been transported to an alternate universe in which they were friends and everything was alright...

He became lost in her voice, in the vision that was her beauty. He was oblivious to everything else around him...and he no longer regretted coming along to the bar.

* * *

Captain Pike watched with interest from his distant seat across the room. Most cadets came to this bar to celebrate and he'd seen Cadet Uhura there at the end of last quarter. He'd taken the chance that she would be there again and had been successful.

It had been difficult to get Spock to come along...but he'd wanted to see them interact. He never had the chance any other time. He was a busy man himself and could hardly take time out to follow them around. So all he could do was manipulate the situation...force them into each other's presence so he could observe.

Spock had been unable to keep his eyes off the cadet ever since entering the building. Pike thought it was amazing he hadn't tripped and fallen over on the way to the bar; his attention had been so riveted. It amused him to no end to see Spock so entranced...and yet it did not bode well. It only further confirmed his previous suspicions that something was going on between them.

She'd been rather cold towards Spock at first- she seemed nervous, reluctant to so much as look at him. But then she'd turned to him and her face began to light up as they fell into what seemed to be an easy conversation. Her smile was wide, eyes sparkling as she animatedly spoke of an unknown subject. Spock merely sat on the stool beside her, turned so that he faced her and she faced him. His eyes did not waver from her for even a second. They leaned in towards each other, seemingly unaware of the dwindling distance between them.

Even though it was forbidden, Pike had to admit they made a damned cute couple. He'd never seen such chemistry between two people before. Their body language seemed to scream that they were attracted, if not more than that.

He'd gotten what he came for...but he still wouldn't say anything to Spock. He would not do that quite yet- he must observe them further. But for now this was enough. He stood and made his way back over to Spock and the cadet.

"Good evening, Cadet Uhura," he said. Neither of them questioned the fact that he knew her name. He could tell Spock was disappointed at his interruption by the way the Vulcan looked up at him. "Are you here alone?"

"No, sir, my friend is..." She looked around, squinting as she observed the crowd. Then she frowned. "Apparently my friend abandoned me."

"That's not good," Pike said. He'd seen Jim Kirk and the Orion sneak out an hour before, shortly after he and Spock arrived. "Do you have a ride back to your dorm?"

"No, but I can walk. It's not far," she replied. "Speaking of which, I really should get going..."

"You're going to walk alone across campus this late at night?" Pike asked, shaking his head. "I wouldn't advise that, Cadet."

And then, he had an idea. He knew he _shouldn't_...it would be so wrong...but so delightfully wonderful at the same time. He should not be encouraging this but...

"Spock, why don't you escort Cadet Uhura back to her dorm? I'm going to be here a while longer and I know you don't want to stay. It would only be logical, right?" He slapped his protégé on the back, seeing his expression turn to ice.

As he watched, the two of them exchanged looks. He couldn't decipher the meaning. It seemed...uneasy.

"Captain, I am not sure I-" Spock began but Pike waved a hand at him, not letting him get out of this.

"Go, Spock. If I have to make it an order I will. There's no need to endanger the cadet and you're heading that way anyway."

Spock shifted in his seat- which meant he was extremely uncomfortable. Uhura was staring down at her lap, lips pressed together.

"Very well," Spock finally said. He stood. "Cadet, we should be on our way."

Uhura cleared her throat, her eyes still downcast as she stood also. Pike watched them make their way toward the exit...suddenly feeling as if he'd made a big mistake. Damn his sentimental old heart.

* * *

They walked in silence. The similarities to the only other walk they'd shared were uncanny.

Nyota's arms were folded over her chest, her gold heels clicking against the pavement as they neared the entrance to the campus grounds. The previous comfortable conversation had ended as soon as Pike showed up and now they were back to their tense and awkward silence. For a tiny moment in time it had been so easy to be in his presence- and she'd temporarily allowed herself to be fooled into thinking they were fine. But reality had a way of scattering fantasy to the winds and it had come in the form of Captain Pike. They had both been brought back down to the same unsatisfactory situation. The question was...which one of them would voice the unspoken truth between them?

Her head still swam pleasantly and her body felt light, but she was not drunk or anywhere near it. She was grateful for that, because at the moment she had quite a few things on her mind and if she were any more intoxicated they would probably spew forth unchecked, embarrassing her.

It was Spock who finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"We are nearing your building, Cadet," he said. She sighed agitatedly and looked over at him. He did not look at her and her gaze slid down, eying his clothing. He wore a black button-down and black slacks, nothing remarkable. Yet it was odd to see him in civilian clothes. The only other time she'd seen him out of uniform he'd been naked. Though the outfit was simple...he looked fantastic in it.

"We're not in uniform and it's officially spring break. You _can_ call me Nyota in this circumstance," she pointed out.

His shoulders stiffened. "I prefer to maintain formality, no matter the state of dress we are in and regardless of whether we are on break." Though his tone never changed she recognized that he was putting distance between them with his words. And like a slow-burning firecracker suddenly meeting its end, she felt irritation and anger swell within her simultaneously.

"Fine," she said. They walked on for a few more minutes without another word. She began to think over the last few weeks, the things she'd found out about him... A question that had been bothering her came to mind. "Did you ever finish studying that plant, Commander?"

She was intrigued when he hesitated before answering.

"I did."

"And what were the results? What effect did the pollen have on us?" she asked, looking at him hard. She watched as his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. He was as uncomfortable as she was. Somehow the confirmation of that felt...good.

"The chemical in the pollen was a disinhibitor," he replied slowly.

"Ah. I see." Nyota nodded, once more looking straight ahead. "So how long were you planning on keeping _that_ from me, Spock?"

To her surprise, he did not correct her on saying his name.

"I did not plan on 'keeping it from you'. You did not ask until now and the chemical was irrelevant. Only our resulting actions were important. I saw no reason to seek you out and inform you of that which you already knew."

"Bullshit," she said evenly. He stopped and so did she. He turned to face her.

"You are implying that I lied." Dark eyes bore into hers and she felt herself stiffen, trying to keep her cool. _Breathe, Nyota...Breathe..._

"No, I'm implying that's not the real reason. The _truth_ is that you didn't want me to know the pollen made you act on preexisting desires. You didn't want me know you wanted me. It must be awfully embarrassing to a Vulcan to desire a human." Her voice was cold, flat. She wasn't sure where this sudden anger was coming from...maybe it had been there ever since she realized the truth about the pollen. He _did_ want her- and yet he was obviously ashamed of it. Why else would he not have told her the results from his study? He was ashamed of what happened between them. He was ashamed of his feelings and would never act on them. They had been dancing circles around each other and all of a sudden she really didn't want to play this game anymore.

"It is irrelevant," he replied- his voice tight, laced with warning. It was clear he wanted her to change the subject. But she was just as resolved if not more so. If they were going to go down this route...everything may as well be laid out plain. And with that, she was on the offensive.

She met his gaze evenly, returning an equally hard glare; it was a challenge. It couldn't be misinterpreted as anything else.

"I'm confused, Spock. If you want me and I'm no longer your student- why are you still acting like you don't?"

"This is an inappropriate conversation. I believe you may be intoxicated."

Nyota gave a short laugh. No, she wasn't drunk...but the alcohol made her feel bold.

"You amaze me, you really do. You're so ashamed of your human heritage the mere thought of having human desires sickens you. You refuse to acknowledge them. You told me you've been shunned all your life- but you don't realize you shun your human half just as much as they do! If you didn't, why are you still so resolved to pretend nothing happened? Why are you pretending you don't want me when you're finally free to have what you want? What's holding you back, Spock?"

"We are outside your building, Cadet. Good night," he said, his voice stern as he turned away from her. Suddenly she knew she'd said the wrong thing...but it was too late to take it back now.

"Spock..." Her voice was calmer now and he turned back to regard her. "We both want the same thing. Each other. Does that matter to you at _all_?"

"Good night, Cadet," he repeated. He turned away again and she watched as he disappeared into the darkness, a sinking feeling in her heart. And her frustration still growing.


	8. Confusion

**A/N: My beta says I should refresh your memories by reminding you that T'Pring was mentioned in chapter three, so her mentioning in this chapter won't seem like it's the first time...**

**Also, I'd like to point out that Spock isn't going to be her "teacher" exactly. I will go into more detail about this in the next chapter. Just wanted to clear that up.**

**AND it appears that FF is having issues *again* so I apologize for the multiple alerts.  
**

**Chapter 8: Confusion**

Spock walked quickly towards the graduate apartments. The cool, damp evening air seeped through his shirt into his skin, sending an imperceptible shiver down his back. But perhaps it was not only the chill that caused this...

His head swam with all that had just happened; the words that had come from her mouth echoed in his mind. He attempted to process them but his normally-placid mind was anything _but_ placid. Only _she_ seemed capable of causing this reaction within him. It was frustratingly incomprehensible.

It did not matter, he told himself. It did not matter that she'd made her desires plain. She was no longer his student- but there was still T'Pring. He had his duties. He was Vulcan. He was not human and could not give in to his desires like they could.

As he entered the warm building and pressed the button to call the lift, he reflected on the freedoms these humans took for granted.

They were not bound to the strictures of logic. They required no reasoning for their actions- and this was accepted among them. They were not condemned for desiring one another; it was part of their culture. Love and romance- the two most illogical concepts- were as much a part of them as the rest of their rampant emotional displays. They could love, lust, yearn, and even hate for no reason- and without consequence.

Vulcans could not.

Once upon a time, thousands of years ago, his people had these freedoms too. But if they had not put a halt to their deeply aggressive and passionate natures they would have killed each other- they would have died out. And so for their ancestors' transgressions the descendents were punished. Restrained. Bound by the chains of logic.

It had its merits. Logic did allow one a degree of tranquility humans often never reach. Distancing oneself from their emotions when making decisions ensured that they never made mistakes- which often happened when emotions became involved. The adaptation of the ways of Surak had saved the Vulcan people and helped them to flourish- to become one of the most prestigious species in the galaxy.

But when it came to Nyota Uhura, formerly his student and with whom he would soon work alongside in the communications laboratory...

Spock's fists clenched involuntarily at his sides as the lift glided to a stop and the doors opened. He made his way down the hallway- memories of _that_ Saturday flashing through his mind. Her lips against his- her cool skin as his hands slid over her; her breath catching in his ear and the intoxicating aroma of her arousal filling the air as their clothes dropped away. And then moving together in the heated embrace hearkening back to his human roots and that of ancient Vulcan long forgotten...

The door to his quarters opened and he entered, unbuttoning the black shirt he'd worn to the bar before tossing it into the refresher as he went by. Without pause he went to the corner of his bedroom where he kept his meditation mat and incense burners. Settling down onto the floor, he lit one of the sticks of incense by striking it against the side of a clay jar and placing it on a holder. Then leaning back, he inhaled the spicy scent; letting the smoke drift over and around him, settling into his hair and skin.

He should not have gone. He should have stayed home. He should not have allowed Captain Pike to persuade him into going. He hadn't wanted to go in the first place. Yet he'd also wanted to appease his captain- his mentor. Pike had been the first human to show any sign of acceptance for who and what he was; before then he'd been as much of an outsider at the academy as he had been on Vulcan. One could even go so far as to call them friends. And as his friend, he understood that he must occasionally do things to appease Captain Pike. Therefore he had gone.

And there had only been one other person to make him feel accepted...

Cadet Uhura did not realize how difficult it had been to walk away from her. She did not know how much he'd wanted to answer her last query: yes, it _did_ matter to him that she wanted him. But to feel on that subject was illogical. He had a mate- a betrothed. She waited for him to claim her on Vulcan. The fact that he did not know her and felt no desire to know her didn't matter. As was the way of his people, they had been chosen for one another. One day they would marry and she would give the S'chn T'gai clan an heir. That was what their families had arranged and he was expected to follow through with those plans. To forsake his mate for another on the basis of a _feeling_ would be both illogical and dishonorable.

Still deep in meditation, the corners of Spock's mouth turned down ever so slightly. He had maintained the belief up until this point that his interest in Cadet Uhura was purely sexual. It had been easy to accept that as a fact; sexual urges were natural, and since he was half-human they were to be expected. Yet it had persisted long after sating the physical desire. Logically, the lust should have faded after their encounter. But it had not. In fact, he was beginning to believe it was stronger than ever. He could no longer deny to himself that this was not merely infatuation. This was more- and his efforts to pretend otherwise were futile.

What was this strange attraction? This desire to be near her, to see her? Why did he wish _her_ to be his bond mate instead of T'Pring? Why did he so often find himself thinking of her as his, even though she was not? There were so many unanswered questions. Perhaps there was no answer to them.

Not a logical answer, anyway.

Even before he met her Spock had struggled with emotions- anger being the most predominant among his weaknesses. But he had been able to overcome them with meditation, to tamp down on the desire to act on them. There had been times when he'd broken- but those occasions had become rarer over the years. It had gotten to a point where he no longer allowed anger to disturb him. He no longer reacted.

He had been in control of his emotions, both Vulcan and human, until she entered his class. And the feelings she had evoked since then were not going away. They were not controllable through meditation. They refused to be repressed- to be ignored. To be buried under Vulcan logic. Despite his efforts they were only becoming stronger.

As they grew, so did his despair. For there was no way to make them fade- and there was no way he could act on them. He was trapped in this web of feelings he had for her. Because any relationship he began with her _must_ end in marriage; it would be illogical to begin a relationship which he knew must end.

And he was already promised to someone else.

This thought brought forth a deep ache within him that was as unexplainable as everything else. He had no names for the tangle of emotions within him; all he knew was that he wanted Nyota to be _his_. To be his bond mate- his life mate. His _wife_.

But that could not happen. It was impossible. He had duties to his clan- to his father. To T'Pring, no matter how unfaithful she was.

Breathing in the sharp scent of the incense, Spock thought about Nyota instead. The tantalizing gold dress she had worn that evening which laid bare the flesh he'd touched and wished to touch again. The sweeping curves of her long eyelashes as she looked up at him, a small smile playing about her full lips. Brown eyes lighting up at the mention of the Enterprise...and then his mind settled on the hardened expression she had worn just twenty minutes previously as she uttered harsh words:

_"You're so ashamed of your human heritage that the mere thought of having human desires sickens you. You refuse to acknowledge them. You told me once you've been shunned all your life- but you don't realize you shun your human half just as much as they do!"_

As much as he may wish to forget those words, he could not. He had never thought of it in that way...but the words were true. He had always tried to adhere to his father's roots, not his mother's. He detested it when others insulted his mother- and indeed that was always what made him break, not the insults directed at him- yet he tried so hard to distance himself from anything _human_. The idea of being outwardly emotional was vaguely sickening to him, as it was to all Vulcans. But he shared genetics with a passionate race and he tried hard to forget that fact. He struggled to be entirely Vulcan, no matter how impossible it was to be so.

Swallowing as he tried to repress the swelling guilt within him, he also recalled the expression on her face as she asked him if their desire to be together meant anything to him. Her eyes- once so bright with excitement and determination- had been full of sadness as he turned away without a reply. He thought she may have even been on the verge of tears...yet another reason why he'd hurried away. He could not bear to see her shed tears on his account.

But this was the way it must be. It could not be changed. What they wanted did not matter; he had a bond mate...and it was not Nyota Uhura.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, the first thing Nyota was aware of was the bright sunlight streaming through the open blinds into the room. For a few minutes she merely watched as tiny flecks of dust lazily floated through the golden ray of light, rising and falling and twirling before finally settling to collect on Gaila's dresser...

Sitting up, she hugged her knees against her chest and propped her chin on them. Looking around she saw that Gaila wasn't there. Apparently she hadn't come back from Kirk's.

Squeezing her eyes shut and heaving a sigh, Nyota recalled the events of the night before. When she'd gone to sleep part of her had hoped she would forget it all...but she hadn't. She remembered every detail with clarity.

Before last night she was certain she felt nothing for Spock other than respect for who he was, and what was only a physical attraction. But now...

While she hadn't been drunk, the alcohol had certainly loosened her tongue- as well as enlightened her on a few things. Why had she told him she wanted to be with him? The thought had never crossed her mind before. Sure, there was that moment the day before when the thought- even hoped- he might ask her out...but she'd quickly come to her senses. It had just been a reaction, that's all. Any girl would have thought the same after being asked if they had plans...

But then why was she so angry when she realized he was distancing himself from her? Why had she become so upset when he refused to acknowledge their desire for one another or to act upon it?

With a groan, Nyota laid back down on the bed and covered her head with a pillow. She'd been so sure she didn't feel anything for him, but now...she didn't know what she felt.

She knew she sympathized with him for what he was- the only half-human, half-Vulcan in existence. She couldn't imagine how lonely he must feel, being the only of his kind in the galaxy; a child of two worlds who belonged nowhere. When she thought about it, her heart ached for him. No one deserved to be so lonely. It made her want to hold him in her arms, kiss him...make it so he _wasn't_ alone.

When she thought about him she felt..._warm_. Before this whole debacle she'd looked forward to seeing him in class more than all her other instructors combined...

And then Nyota remembered _that_ night; how it felt to lay in his warm arms. She'd felt...comforted. Protected. _Loved_.

She was starting to realize she wanted to feel that way with him again. She wouldn't mind giving a relationship with him a try- but there was a problem. And the problem was him.

He didn't seem in the least inclined to see her again in any capacity other than as her superior officer. He would never acknowledge any feelings he had for her- _if_ he had any at all. He had made that clear the night before when he walked away from her.

At this thought, her frustration with him resurfaced.

"Damn Vulcan," she cursed aloud. "So _stubborn_. Can't just _admit_ he wants to be with me!"

"What was that?"

Nyota's head jerked up from under the pillow as Gaila walked in. She wore the same thing as the night before, but her hair was disheveled and she looked like she was about to fall asleep on her feet as she came into the room.

"Nothing," Nyota said quickly, sitting up. "Have a good night?"

She winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She'd long since learned to _never_ ask Gaila how her night was when sex was involved. It always ended in an hour-long play-by-play of her sexual adventures.

Today, however, it seemed she had other things on her mind.

"Never mind me- what about _you_?" Gaila smirked as she sat on her bed and took off her heels. "I saw you flirting with the Commander when I left."

"I wasn't _flirting_," Nyota said, frowning. "We had a nice conversation about the Enterprise."

"Did you go back to his place afterward?" the Orion asked.

"_No_! I _told_ you there's nothing between us. What happened was a one-time thing, Gaila."

Unfortunately this seemed to be true, she thought bitterly to herself.

"Well, I don't care what you say. You _were_ flirting," Gaila said as she began to peel off the skin-tight dress and change into a pair of pants and a top. "You two were leaning really close to each other, and both of you were _fixated_. I've never seen two people so absorbed. It was almost cute."

"We weren't leaning _that_ close, and we weren't fixated on each other either. Stop exaggerating, Gaila. We were having a _professional_ conversation."

"If you say so," Gaila said, grinning. "But it didn't look very professional from where I was standing. I seriously thought he was going to reach out and grab you at any second to drag you back to his place."

Nyota rolled her eyes. To her recollection it had been a perfectly appropriate discussion between an instructor and former student.

"_And_," Gaila continued, "I've never seen him like that before. It was really hot. He was almost _human_."

Nyota remembered with a pang her harsh words to him about his human heritage. That had been the alcohol talking. She shouldn't have said those things to him- even if she _did_ believe them to be true. It wouldn't have changed anything- it wouldn't make him suddenly decide that she was worth disposing of logic and his Vulcan ways for. It had served only to vent her growing frustration; and instead of doing that, it only made her feel worse.

He must have a reason for his behavior- for his rejection of her. She had no right to question it; she shouldn't have tried to force the issue. It was a decision _he_ had to make on his own...she couldn't make it for him, no matter how much she may want to. No matter how much the rejection hurt.

And it did hurt. Remembering the way he had walked away from her without a word sent a deep ache through her heart.

Gaila must have seen some of the distress on her face, for she was suddenly sitting beside her and laying one green hand on her shoulder.

"Sweetie, what is it?" she asked gently. Sometime during the ten years she'd lived on Earth, Gaila had picked up certain human habits- such as terms of endearment. But she reserved them for moments like these, when she sensed something was wrong.

"It's...nothing," Nyota replied, blinking back tears. Really- why was she wasting tears on him? He'd made everything very clear the night before. He had no interest in a relationship. She _should_ be able to move on and forget all about it; about that night, about _them;_ about the strange, unfamiliar feelings beginning to unfurl within her which she attempted to ignore with no success...

"It's not 'nothing'," Gaila said, now rubbing her arm soothingly. "Come on, Nyota. Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't _know_. That's the thing, Gaila. I don't _know_ what's wrong with me," Nyota replied, slowly shaking her head, her voice thick with the tears she was holding back. "I told myself over and over it doesn't matter, that I don't feel anything for him. But after last night, I don't know. I said some things to him that even _I_ hadn't realized were true until I said them. Now I'm confused. I don't _know_ how I feel about him- or about _anything_."

The night before she had been able to rein in the tears that threatened her; but now they refused to be restrained any longer. Tears of frustration, confusion, anger and sadness- tears that had been held in for weeks- ran down her cheeks as she buried her face in Gaila's shoulder, not making a sound even as she shook from the force of the emotions within her.

She was finally beginning to realize the truth: she was slowly falling for her former instructor. It had been happening for a long time. Gradually, second by second, even before that Saturday night...

And now it didn't matter. None of it did.

* * *

Stepping off the shuttlecraft, Nyota was immediately enveloped by the familiar, slightly dry heat of Dodoma, Tanzania.

She was relieved to be back. After recent events this was exactly what she needed: a chance to get away from the academy. Away from _Spock_. A chance to be away from everything that reminded her of the predicament she was in.

Gaila had not said one more word to tease her about Spock since the day before, when she'd lost all semblance of emotional control and cried on her friend's shoulder for over an hour as she told her everything. Gaila may be many things, but a bad friend she was not. She knew her limitations- knew when it was acceptable to tease and when it was not. She knew when she crossed a line. And she knew when to put aside her bubbly, occasionally-frivolous nature to help her friend. And she had done just that. Nyota felt better than she had. Not at her best- not yet- but close. Hopefully she would be entirely back to herself by the time she returned to the academy in two weeks...

"Nyota!" She heard the voice come from the crowd in the shuttle station, and she craned her neck to see over the heads of the bustling people on the platform.

"Mama!" A wide smile spread over Nyota's features- the first in two days- as her mother emerged from the crowd.

"Hurry up and get over here right this minute, young lady!" her mother chided, but she was smiling and her brown eyes were sparkling.

Nyota picked up her bag and weaved her way through the other passengers that were still trailing off the shuttle. As soon as she stopped before Adia Uhura, her mother wrapped her arms around her and squeezed hard.

"Mama- I can't breathe!" Nyota laughed.

"What have you been _eating_ at that academy? You're even skinnier than when you came for Christmas!" She released Nyota and shook her head as she examined her daughter's thin frame.

"_Sijambo_, Mama!" Nyota insisted.

"You are _not_ fine," Adia replied sternly. "You're skin and bones. Is starving the cadets to death part of survival training?"

"Can we at least get out of the shuttle station before you start in?" Nyota asked. Adia pursed her lips but turned towards the exit. Carrying her bag and grinning, Nyota followed.

"Your father couldn't come- he was at the office. And Neema won't be coming until next week," Adia said as she led Nyota towards the waiting hover car.

"Why next week?"

"You know your sister." Adia rolled her eyes as they got into the vehicle. "Every break she's going to some man's home to meet his family."

"It's always the same man, Mama," Nyota replied. "It could be worse."

"That Faraji is as bad as it gets," Adia said flatly. Nyota laughed to herself as her mother pulled away from the station and she turned to look out the window.

The stone buildings of Dodoma- unchanging and as timeless as centuries before- faded into the suburbs; homes becoming less and less common as nature took over and they delved deeper into the Tanzanian wildlife...

Nyota reflected that a common misconception about Africa was that it was all desert. On the contrary, Tanzania had several different climates; the mountainous regions to the northeast and southwest; the tropics along the Indian Ocean coast; highland plateaus and the grasslands of the Serengeti...

As she watched the tall, golden grass of the savanna roll out before them, stretching on seemingly forever and dotted with acacia trees looming in the distance- Nyota felt at home for the first time in a long time.

This was what she needed: something to distract her. And Nyota was determined to forget about everything that had happened the last few weeks- or in the very least make the bothersome feelings go back into hiding where they belonged. There was no better place to do this than home. Surely being half a world away from California would make her task easy...


	9. Home Sweet Home

**Word guide:**

**_Binti yangu- _My daughter**

**_Malaika_- Angel**

**Chapter 9: Home Sweet Home**

The old wooden porch creaked, its boards rough beneath her bare feet, as Nyota moved down the steps. She reached the ground and made her way forward, the tall golden grass tickling her ankles and calves, the red African soil moist and cool as her feet sank into it. Her eyes were riveted on the view before her.

The Uhura home was located on the very edges of the Serengeti. And now, when the red sun was sinking below the horizon, was the best time to view the magnificence of the savanna.

Fingers of red, orange and gold light painted the endless stretch of tall grass that waved and rolled with the slight breeze. The acacia trees were black as the brightness of the sun threw them into silhouette; their branches reaching toward the darkening sky as if in supplication. It was a sea of crimson beauty.

For several long minutes she walked towards the beginning of the plains, the grass becoming taller all around her with every step she took. As she neared the cluster of boulders on the edge of the property she was aware of the tumultuous emotions within her, gnawing at her from the inside. A week in Africa had not been enough to quell them. They warred within her constantly and nothing would make them go away, no matter how hard she tried. She was just as lost as ever.

Nyota went to a low, flat boulder that overlooked the view before her. Sitting down and leaning back on her elbows with her legs dangling over the side, she dug her toes into the rich earth and relished the feel of it sinking between them, gritty and yet like silk against her skin.

It was all so familiar, so comforting. The sunset before her was the same she had watched as a little girl from this very same rock. This soil was the same as that which had caked her after hours of play. The scent perfuming the air- that of sun-baked earth and the sweetness of African flowers- was one she would always recall with clarity. The song of the cicadas, rising from the gathering shadows of night like a symphony, brought back memories of many an African night spent on the porch with her parents and grandparents, sharing stories and reminiscences....

Despite her restlessness when kept in one location too long, this would always be the place she called home.

"_Binti yangu_?" came a soft voice from behind her. Nyota looked over her shoulder.

"Yes, Mama?" she asked.

"Want some company?" Adia asked as she sat beside her daughter. Nyota shrugged and turned back to the blood-red sunset.

There was silence between them as they watched the fiery orb sink down and disappear behind the plains. The sky was now a deep purple and royal blue as the stars began to peek out; the moon rising full and bright in the east.

"Nyota..." Adia's gentle voice broke the quiet. "Is something wrong? You've been quiet these past few days. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine, Mama. Just...exhausted. I've worked hard the past few years and now it's finally almost over," she replied.

"And then you'll be up there." Adia gestured toward the sky wistfully. Then she paused. "Unless you've changed your mind. Is that what this is about, _malaika_? Because even though your father and I paid for it, we won't be angry if you decide not to join Starfleet. You don't have to fear that."

"No, Mama, it's not that." Nyota shook her head as she sat up, resting her elbows on her legs as she leaned forward.

"I didn't think so," Adia said. "I know your father and I expressed doubts at first but you know we've been supportive of you. You belong up there, Nyota- you belong up there with the stars. Your talent is leading you there."

"I _do_ still want to go," Nyota insisted.

"Then what's wrong, sweetie? I know you say you're fine- but you haven't smiled more than a few times in the last week. You don't talk much. You're like a ghost around here. So what is it? Is it a boy?"

"Mama," Nyota sighed. "Don't worry about it."

"Did one of those hunky Starfleet captains break your heart?"

Nyota ducked her head, unable to stop her smile from forming.

"No, Mama."

Adia's voice was quiet when she spoke again. "Did you fall in love?"

"What? No!" Nyota shook her head violently but her eyes remained on the now-dark savanna, her legs unconsciously drawing up against her chest and her arms hugging her knees. The corners of her mouth tugged down into a frown.

She missed the knowing look in Adia's brown eyes.

"Well, whatever it is that's wrong... you know I'm here to talk to, Nyota. I've had a lot of experiences in my fifty years and I know a thing or two."

Her mother stood and started to walk away. Nyota unfolded her body, once again digging her toes into the soft ground, her hands supporting her weight against the rapidly-cooling boulder.

"Mama?" she called, still looking down. Adia turned back. "When you met Baba, how soon did you fall in love with him? I mean... is it something that has to come with time? How do you know when it's love and not just a crush?"

Adia returned to sit next to her. "How soon did I fall in love with him? Almost immediately. And how did I know it wasn't just a crush? Well... love feels differently. I can't describe it. You have to feel it for yourself, Nyota. But I _will_ tell you that love can hit you like a sledgehammer out of nowhere- or it can come gradually. And while crushes quickly fade, love- true love- doesn't. It only gets stronger as time passes. And nothing can make it go away. It eats at you, it plagues you until you fall prey to it. So whoever this man is I know you have in mind... don't fool yourself about your feelings. And if you think it's one-sided, I'm sure you're wrong. You are a beautiful, smart, talented girl and any man who doesn't fall for you is crazy." Her gentle yet still firm voice rolled over Nyota, who lowered her head so she didn't have to meet her mother's gaze.

"It's complicated, Mama. Way more than you can even imagine," she said quietly.

Adia shook her head slowly.

"Love is always complicated. No matter who it affects and no matter what situation they're in. But it's the strongest emotion out there, even stronger than hatred and anger. It can't be ignored. So if you think he's immune, you're dead wrong. He's just as unable to resist it as you are, no matter _who_ he is. Whatever it is that's going on between you- give it time. I'm sure that eventually you'll both succumb. And you'll never regret it."

"And what if we don't? What if we just... _can't_?" Nyota whispered, eyes unfocused as she stared up at the moon which bathed them in silver light.

"Then you'll endure, Nyota." Her mother placed an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "You're a strong woman. If you can't have what you want, life will go on. That's not to say you shouldn't fight for it- but we can't have everything we want in this world. If you fight the battle and lose, at least you didn't give in without trying. And believe me, honey... love is worth the fight."

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Night sounds surrounded them; the humming of the cicadas, the rustling of the dry grass, the distant roar of a lion on the prowl....

"Let's go inside, sweetie," Adia finally said, getting up with a groan. "Your sister's coming tomorrow morning and we need to finish cleaning up the dinner dishes."

"I'll be there in a few," Nyota replied. Adia nodded, looking down at her daughter with a sad gleam in her eyes.

"Take your time," she said before going inside.

Nyota sat there for nearly another hour, simply looking out and listening to the sounds of nature; pondering her mother's words.

Love... was it possible that this was what she felt for Spock? Did she love him? It certainly didn't feel like a mere crush. Her mother had said it only grew stronger with time... and instead of abating, her feelings were only growing. Spock was always in her thoughts these days- and until now she'd had no clue as to why. But after talking to her mother... perhaps there _was_ an answer. It was not a favorable one, but it was becoming more and more obvious to her. The confusion that had filled her for days was beginning to clear, to solidify into one absolute truth. A truth she was unsure she was willing to face....

Finally she got up and headed towards the house, brushing away a stray tear as she walked forward in the night.

***

"So, have you met any gorgeous Starfleet officers yet, Nyota?" Neema asked, resting her chin on her folded hands, her elbows propped up on the counter as she eyed her younger sister slyly.

The knife Nyota had been using to peel her potato slipped, cutting off a chunk of the vegetable instead of skinning it.

"Watch it!" their mother admonished as she lifted a bowl of freshly-snapped green beans and set them in the sink to be rinsed. "Don't cut your fingers off, Nyota. And Neema- leave her alone."

"It was an innocent question, Mama," Neema said, batting her eyelashes.

"Aren't you supposed to be slicing the chicken?" she asked sternly as she wiped her hands on her apron. Scowling, Neema turned back to the strips of meat on the cutting board and picked up her own knife.

One thing the Uhura family insisted on was cooking from scratch instead of using processed foods. Their entire house bore signs of their reluctance to embrace technology; there were no pneumatic doors, no replicators, no dishwasher. They did not rely on machines and Nyota relished the hard work that went into their home. This was how she was raised and she would have it no other way. She had many fond memories of this kitchen where she'd prepared meals with her mother and sister countless times.

Neema continued to look up at her every few seconds. Nyota wondered if she was that transparent; her mother had figured it out, why not her sister?

Ducking her head lower she concentrated on the potato in her hand, the paring knife sliding under the skin and shearing off a strip with a long, easy stroke. She liked to prepare food and cook. It distracted her. It was calming. It let her ignore her sister's suspicious glances and the way her mother had walked on eggshells around her since their discussion two nights before.

From behind her came the sounds of the door opening and a familiar booming laugh. Twisting in her seat Nyota caught sight of her father entering the kitchen, closely followed by Neema's fiancé, Faraji.

"Darweshi, get out of the kitchen," Adia scolded her husband, who pecked her on the cheek.

"But this is where the beautiful ladies are," he said, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as he grinned. Adia rolled her eyes as she turned back to the sink.

Nyota watched through lowered eyelashes as Faraji wrapped his arms around Neema from behind, his kiss on her neck making her smile widely. He whispered something in her ear and her sister giggled.

Eyes once more lowering, her next stroke of the paring knife was more violent; roughly slicing off the last bit of skin, she tossed the potato into the waiting pot. Grabbing the next, she viciously attacked it as well.

Being around these happy couples had, instead of letting her forget about her problems, only made her think about Spock all the more. And thinking about Spock led her back to her mother's words....

_ "If you fight the battle and lose, at least you didn't give in without trying. And believe me, honey... love is worth the fight."_

Taking a deep breath, Nyota tried to quell her frustration. She had fought. And she had lost. There was nothing to do now but endure.

But had she fought hard enough?

Lately that question had bothered her more than any other. But hadn't Spock made his stance clear? Hadn't he made it obvious that they would never be together?

_ "He's just as unable to resist it as you are, no matter who he is. Whatever it is that's going on between you- give it time. I'm sure that eventually you'll both succumb. And you'll never regret it."_

She wondered if that was true. _Could_ Spock give in? Maybe her mother's advice didn't apply to emotionally-repressed Vulcans. They were not normal men. They did not give in to their feelings.

But... Spock was also half-human. She could not forget that fact. It was significant.

"Smile, _malaika_," Darweshi said as Nyota placed the freshly peeled potato into the pot. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Stop being so melancholy."

"I'm not melancholy, Baba." Nyota smiled up at him. "And didn't Mama tell you to get out of the kitchen?"

"That's right. Get out- both of you!" Adia waved her arms at the men. "We have work to do."

Nyota watched Faraji and her father leave. And right then she made a resolution.

She couldn't wallow in self-pity like she had for the past week. This was family time and she was supposed to be using it to rid her mind of Spock. So far she hadn't been particularly successful.

And she definitely couldn't be jealous of her sister. Even if seeing her and Faraji cuddled up together reminded her of her night with Spock....

Picking up the next potato, she made her first step towards recovery as she joined in the banter between her mother and sister, forcing a smile onto her face.

* * *

The sound of her boots echoed in the corridor. A smile curved her lips as she nodded at the people she passed, feeling far more cheerful than she had in a long time.

Her final days in Africa had been pleasant. She and her family had played games, laughed and told stories and reminisced: just like the old days. She'd relaxed and enjoyed her break, finally able to keep her mind off....

She didn't even let herself think the name.

Feeling refreshed and at peace with the world, Nyota turned into Commander Ripley's communications lab. Taking two steps into the room, she stopped dead in her tracks. It was a moment before her brain registered what her eyes clearly saw.

_No!_

She stared as Spock stood conferring with Commander Ripley beside a console. Praying and hoping with every fiber of her being that he was only there temporarily, she stepped toward one of the available computers and set her bag down next to a chair, trying her best to keep her gaze off him even though she could feel his eyes on her- _burning_ her with their dark depths of intensity.

Suddenly her good mood was gone. She'd been banking on the fact that she wouldn't see him again right away- hopefully not for a long time. And yet there he was, on her very first day back. Right there to remind her of everything she'd worked so hard the last week to repress.

As she leaned forward to turn on the console she caught some of what was being said.

"Just keep in mind that the consoles will have to calibrated often. They're not as new as they used to be, Spock, and they tend to get slow. And power them down after the night shifts should you get stuck on one of them," Commander Ripley's voice said. Spock did not reply but she could imagine that he'd nodded his head once in his usual curt manner.

Her heart sank. Calibrating the consoles? Night shift? But that made it sound as if....

"I will report back this afternoon, Commander," Spock's voice came, interrupting her worried thoughts. "In the meantime I have a class of my own to prepare for."

She heard his boots on the tiled floor and leapt up out of her seat as he passed her.

"Commander- a word?" she asked tersely, her jaw set. Their eyes met and she remembered with a pang how he'd walked away from her.

"Certainly, Cadet," he replied evenly as he continued into the corridor. She followed him, her fists clenched at her sides as he paused outside the door and turned to her. "Can I assist you in something?"

She wet her lips before speaking. "Commander, I couldn't help but overhear you speaking to Commander Ripley. Why didn't you tell me you're going to be my instructor again? It would have been _nice_ to be prepared." She glared up at him as she spoke but he did not even blink.

"It was irrelevant. And I am not your instructor, Cadet. I am assisting Commander Ripley with the lab equipment and taking on certain communications shifts. I will not be grading you, nor will I be teaching you. I am here in an assistant capacity only."

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself as anger swelled within her.

"I would have liked to have been forewarned that you would be spending time in the communications lab, sir. I know it isn't your duty to inform me, but it would have been courteous to let me know what was going on considering our... past." She said this last part with her voice lowered, glancing around to see if anyone was near.

"Then I apologize, Cadet. But it no longer matters. You now know." His gaze was hard as he looked at her. She drew herself up straighter.

"Very well, Commander. Thank you for your time. I'm sure you have a class to teach. Don't allow a mere cadet to make you late." Her voice was level but tinged with anger. She knew he caught it when he paused, eyes searching her face.

"I did not intend to anger you by not telling you. I did not think an explanation was necessary." His voice had dropped slightly so only she could hear and she could have sworn his eyes softened by a fraction. She shook her head quickly; she wasn't sure what she meant by the action, but she _did _know she didn't want him to use that tone. She didn't want him to look at her like that. Not when he'd rejected her and she was now trying to move on.

"It doesn't matter. I suppose I'll see you around, Commander. Have a good day," she said flatly.

His eyes lingered on her hardened features for a few seconds, but then he nodded.

"Have a good day, Cadet." His voice had returned to its usual professional tone, for which she was grateful. He turned away and she watched him go, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

_Damn it_.

Just when she'd thought things were improving something else had to happen to screw it all up.


	10. Tension

**A/N: Sorry my updates have been so slow... I'm working with new betas at the moment while LadyFangs is busy, and blah blah blah... expect shorter chapters for now on, as I will be starting school next month, so won't be writing as much. **

**Also- thanks to TeaOli, SpockLovesCats, and LadyFangs for their excellent input. **

**And: If you also read Unification and haven't already, you need to read my chapters 4 and 5 rewrites. :)**

**Chapter 10: Tension**

The gym was empty save for two cadets in a distant corner. The only sounds were those of the heavy thuds of flesh against leather as Nyota punched and kicked forcefully, and the chain supporting the punching bag creaking and groaning as it swayed perilously.

"Watch it!" Gaila snapped when a particularly vicious kick sent the bag careening towards her, almost knocking her off her feet.

"I don't get it," Nyota growled, catching the bag to steady it. "Every time I try to get away from him he's right there! This universe is conspiring against me- I'm sure of it!"

She'd been in a foul mood ever since her confrontation with Spock that morning, and her frustration resurfaced at the thought of the situation. She punched the bag again, not caring that the zealous hook sent pain shooting from her wrapped knuckles all the way up her arm. Shaking her hand to rid herself of the ache, she gritted her teeth and refocused on the training bag before her.

It wasn't fair. No matter what she did, the problem just wouldn't go away. _He_ wouldn't let it.

"Stupid Vulcan," Nyota hissed as she launched into another series of defensive combat moves, the bag swinging back and forth as she attacked yet again.

"Careful, he's still your superior," Gaila said with a grin. "You could get in trouble for that."

Nyota paused in her barrage of blows and stood there panting; her skin glowing with a sheen of sweat, her hair escaping from its ponytail to frame her face in damp tendrils.

"_Why_ did he accept the position?" she asked, more to herself than to Gaila. Her chest heaved from her exertion, fists clenched at her sides. "Why did he have to show up out of nowhere when I _least_ expected it? When I wasn't _ready_?" She slammed her fist into the bag again, punctuating her words. There was a clang as the heavy leather pulled against the metal bars supporting it, the sound resonating in the spacious gymnasium and making the two cadets in the corner briefly look over at the source before returning to their own exercise equipment. Bracing herself against the metal frame, Nyota bowed her head, closing her eyes.

"I don't know," Gaila said gently.

Nyota shook her head, swallowing hard as she tried to slow her heart rate and catch her breath. She knew she wasn't just angry at Spock for taking the position: it was his prerogative. He could do whatever he wanted and work wherever he pleased. And he didn't have to tell her, either. That wasn't his duty.

"How am I supposed to deal with this?" she asked, shaking her head as if to clear it.

In Africa she'd managed to rein in her feelings- to forget how painful it was to see him. And she'd thought she wouldn't see him again for a long time. She'd planned it all out: she would return to the academy, return to her studies and graduate as planned. Spock would be, if not forgotten, at least relegated to the very back of her mind.

She had forced herself to be cheerful- to laugh at her Baba's jokes and chat happily with her mother and sister. She'd _made_ herself stop thinking about him.

All for nothing. Eventually, she'd figured, she could stop forcing herself and _actually_ be cheerful at the academy. She'd been dead wrong.

She wasn't angry with _him_. She was angry with _herself_. For her inability to temper these emotions- to get over them.

She was Nyota Uhura, a professional xenolinguist. A future Starfleet officer. She should be able to control herself- she should be tough enough to withstand something like this.

But she wasn't.

* * *

Spock felt the now-familiar uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach as he neared Commander Ripley's lab. With each step he felt his back stiffen and his shoulders tense: he dreaded the evening before him.

He had considered- numerous times- the possibility of informing Commander Ripley that he could not work for him. But he could not do that. His reservations were restricted solely to one cadet's presence in the lab- and that was an emotional motivation, not a logical one.

Vulcans did not believe in luck. It was an illogical concept. But as he walked through the doorway and saw only one cadet in the otherwise empty lab, he decided that fortune was surely not on his side.

"Evening, Commander," Cadet Uhura said, standing at attention beside her console. He noted that her jaw was clenched, her eyes focused on a spot over his shoulder.

Apparently she was displeased with the current arrangement as well. He, too, had been uncomfortable with the fact that Commander Ripley had assigned them to this shift. When he'd checked the schedule that morning he had even considered rearranging his normal routine to make it impossible to cover the shift, but that would have been illogical. He could not avoid her forever.

They would have to work together. Three hours in the evening, twice a week.

Alone.

"At ease," Spock said, and she turned back to her console. He watched as she placed an earpiece in her ear, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder to get it out of the way as she trained her eyes on the screen before her.

"Beta shift reported no unusual transmissions when I relieved them ten minutes ago," she said, voice formal but with a hard edge to it. He heard her heart rate speed up as he moved to sit at a console adjacent to hers, and wondered with a pang if he made her nervous.

Knowing that polite conversation often helped alleviate anxiety, he tested the tactic."Thank you for the update, Cadet."

Her fingers paused on the console, where she had been keying in a set of codes. She did not look at him, but her eyebrows drew together.

"You're welcome, sir," she replied finally. Then her fingers began to move again and she leaned closer to the screen in what he assumed was an attempt to dissuade him from speaking further.

He put in his own earpiece and watched her out of the corner of his eye as he listened to the subspace static. Cadet Uhura was concentrating on her console, refusing to look at him as she effortlessly decoded and transmitted incoming messages, moving with surety and comfort as she worked her station. He found that watching her was... soothing.

Spock had known it would not be easy to work with her. He'd known it since she'd become so obviously upset by his presence when they met in Ripley's classroom three days before. And he was right; as they worked the tension was thick between them. Each was excruciatingly aware of the other, trying in vain to pretend otherwise.

Their mutual silence became oppressive to him. Usually he preferred it to be quiet when he worked; but not this time. Not with her.

"Cadet," he eventually said, his voice low. At the sound of it she tensed, hands stilling over her panel. This reaction produced an unfamiliar sinking feeling in his chest, but he continued. "I am sure you find these circumstances as undesirable as I do. If you would prefer I can request that I be removed from this shift."

"Undesirable is putting it mildly, Commander," she replied, returning to her work, fingers flitting faster over her controls. "But you shouldn't have to do that. We're professionals. We're Starfleet personnel. Surely we can work together without our personal history interfering." Her tone was confident, but her previous behavior and her continued reluctance to meet his gaze bespoke her discomfort.

He found that he admired her attempt at professionalism, as futile as it was.

"Cadet Uhura," he said, watching her closely, "when I took this position I did not realize it would discomfit you. I apologize."

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion and she finally looked over at him. As he gazed into her brown eyes the ache within him intensified and suddenly he longed to touch her.

"There's no need to apologize, sir," she said, sounding bewildered. "You can do whatever you want. The way I feel about it shouldn't matter. That's my concern, not yours."

"That is where you are wrong," Spock corrected quietly. "I have no desire to make you uncomfortable."

She shifted in her seat, pink tongue darting out to wet her lips as she continued to look at him, brow still furrowed. He sensed that she did not know how to respond to this... and then he thought of something else. Something that must be said. Something he perhaps should have explained to her the night he walked away from her.

Spock leaned slightly closer to her, fixing his eyes on hers as he spoke. "Your... _feelings_... do matter to me, despite what my actions may indicate," he said, tone dropping still lower.

"Why?" she asked, her voice rising slightly with surprise.

"Please clarify," Spock said, feeling his own eyebrows draw together in confusion. She straightened in her seat, her features suddenly harder as if she had caught herself.

"_Why_ do my feelings matter to you?" she asked, her voice harsher than before- as if she were _forcing_ herself to be angry.

He gazed at her steadily. "I do not wish for you to be unhappy, Cadet."

Her eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. He knew she understood his meaning.

"Then why do you not... act on it?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I am Vulcan," he explained gently. "It is not an excuse, Cadet. It is a way of life.

"You must understand that there are duties I must adhere to, and I do not mean only my duties to Starfleet. Emotions do not have a place in the doctrine I must follow, and for this I am... regretful."

She swallowed, and Spock watched as she blinked back tears. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath.

"I understand, Commander," she managed to say, voice even and controlled despite her obvious turmoil. "Duty comes first. Before anything else."

"No matter what desires one may have," he added quietly. She wet her lips again and nodded.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

Her hand rested on the console between them, within his reach. And although it was inappropriate- and illogical- he reached out and brushed his fingers over the top of her knuckles. He heard her quiet gasp, but she did not pull away.

Spock felt her sadness from the empathic link... but also her resignation. She _did_ understand, then. She knew that he did not shirk from her because he wanted to. He had no choice in the matter... and so he let her feel what he felt; his own despair over the situation, his own confusion about what to do next. And with it he also sent _peace _and _reassurance _to bolster her own resolve.

"I will repeat my offer," he said, voice still much softer than usual. "If you do not think we can work together I will speak to Commander Ripley."

Despite the fact that he gave her the decision, part of him- a part he blocked from her so she could not feel it through the hands that still touched- hoped she would say no... he far preferred seeing her to not, as selfish as it might be....

"No," she sighed. "I understand now. It... it won't be easy, but I can manage. Thank you for explaining everything, Commander."

He withdrew his hand from hers, already missing the contact with her cool skin but knowing that if he did not end it he might say- or transmit- something he did not want to. "If it is not disagreeable to you, we should attempt to reestablish our former working relationship," he said, deciding it would be best to change the subject. "Discussions are not prohibited in the lab as long as it is not distracting."

Spock was pleased when she sat back in her chair, her previous tension and stiffness dissipating as she turned back to her console. When she spoke again her voice was low; her eyes softer and her jaw unclenched.

"That is agreeable, Commander," she whispered. Her eyes once more turned back to her console and when she spoke again her voice was steadier, more professional. "Have you read the latest reports on the new subspace technology being tested on space station Alpha-two?"

They fell into quiet conversation, and Spock relished it. It was not as comfortable as he would have wished- the conversation was stilted and there were awkward pauses- but if he could not have her, he could at least have this. It was a start.


	11. Truce

**A/N: Many thanks to the ladies at STCC- you know who you are!**

**Chapter 11: Truce**

Nyota bent over her desk, scribbling on her PADD and trying- with little success- to ignore the Orion sitting on a bed behind her.

"I couldn't _believe_ Moretti almost failed me in that class! I mean, come on- just because he hasn't wet his wick in probably _decades_ doesn't mean he should take it out on students and _fail_ them. It's not _our_ fault he doesn't like it when we would rather flirt than listen to him lecture us on advanced algorithms..."

She had been at it for an hour, chattering on about one thing or another: shoes, her latest conquest, complaints about certain cadets or officers, the rumors about this or that instructor that were circulating around campus... Gaila was a veritable mine of useless information and Nyota often wished she would apply that magnificent brain of hers towards her studies.

As she had been over the last hour, Nyota leaned closer to her PADD and tuned her friend out. _Why_ had Gaila chosen to be in one of her talkative moods when Nyota was trying to complete an essay that was due the next day?

"But that's okay. I ended up passing after cramming for the final exam. By the way, I saw your Commander today in a corridor," Gaila said cheerfully, switching subjects without even taking a breath.

"Which one?" Nyota asked absentmindedly, frowning as she reread the last sentence she had written.

"Commander Spock. The Vulcan Sex Machine," Gaila replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Despite being turned away from her, Nyota could almost _feel_ the Orion roll her eyes in annoyance.

"Don't call him that, Gaila," she said, trying to keep her voice even- but her eyebrows drew together as she leaned further over her PADD, gripping her stylus tightly. "He's your superior officer and his position demands respect."

Nyota heard a quiet "_Tuh!_" from behind her, but chose to ignore it. She knew exactly what her roommate thought about Spock: Gaila thought he was an ass for the way he had treated Nyota, but also believed they should be together. She had become convinced after their encounter with him at the bar. She insisted it was a sign. Never mind the fact that he had walked away from Nyota that night and left her in torment for days- the Orion was still adamant that if the two of them just _talked_,everything would be all right and they would live happily ever after.

Nyota _knew_ she shouldn't have recommended those old Terran romance novels back in freshman year.

"And," Nyota said as she twisted around in her chair to look at her friend, "he's not _my_ Commander."

"If you say so," Gaila said in a singsong voice as she returned to painting her toenails cherry red. "But I don't see any other cadets sleeping with him."

"I don't sleep with him, either," Nyota said impatiently, turning back to her PADD and haphazardly jotting down the last few sentences. "That was a one-time thing, as you very well know."

Gaila had no reply to that, and neither woman said anything as Nyota finished her essay and started to pack away her PADD.

"I have Gamma shift in the lab tonight. I'd better go," she said, fastening her case and standing from her chair.

"I'm just saying," Gaila began as if their conversation hadn't ended minutes previously, "that you said yourself it seems like he's everywhere. There has to be a reason for that. If you just _spoke_ to him about it, maybe-"

"Coincidence, Gaila." Nyota's voice was hard as she interrupted. "I don't believe in 'signs', so just drop it." She glanced over at her roommate when she reached the door, and saw that her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed as she continued to apply a layer of polish to her nails.

Two weeks before, when Nyota had returned from her first Gamma shift with Spock, Gaila had wanted to know how things were between them. Nyota had replied with "It was okay," and the Orion hadn't inquired any further after that. She didn't know anything about Spock's confession- or his explanation. Nyota had no intentions of telling her. That was private- between her and Spock and no one else.

Besides, saying it aloud would make it official: she would have to acknowledge that she had no chance with him.

When the door hissed shut behind her, she was already moving down the empty hall. Most cadets were at dinner or in their dorms by this time, and she encountered no one on her way to Commander Ripley's communications lab.

Where she would work with Spock that night.

Sometimes he got there before her; sometimes he didn't. This time he was already there when she entered the room filled with gently-humming consoles and equipment.

"Evening, Commander," she said as he looked up from his station. She always dreaded seeing him during the long walk from her dorm to the lab, and yet... each time she walked into the room and saw him, she felt her shoulders relax and a deep calm settle over her, the dread forgotten. Tonight was no different.

"Good evening, Cadet Uhura," he said in the tone of voice he reserved solely for her; it was quieter than the one he used to address others. She gave him a small smile before sitting at the console adjacent to his and setting her bag on the floor.

Two weeks had passed, and while she sensed that they were slowly easing back into their professional relationship, there were undeniable undertones of something more. She saw it in the way he looked at her, his eyes slightly softened... heard it in the sound of his deep, smooth voice when he spoke to her. It reminded her that they could pretend all they wanted- but they knew the truth.

Nyota began to run her usual tests on the console, and as she did, Spock reached over to pick up his earpiece, lying near her hand. Their fingers brushed- she felt a spark, like a jolt of electricity. The contact was too brief for her to catch anything other than a quick flash of unintelligible emotion- but she felt it regardless. It shot through her hand and up her arm, making her gasp with its intensity.

These accidental touches happened entirely too often- especially considering that Spock was Vulcan and his people were generally very careful about avoiding contact. And while she knew it would not help her come to terms with the reality of their situation- part of her longed for those occasional touches.

"Have you read the Enterprise updates today?" Spock asked as he inserted the earpiece and turned to his console. Although his face was carefully blank, showing no sign of a reaction to the touch, she wondered if it made _his_ stomach flutter, too.

"I did, sir," she replied, picking up her own earpiece. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the shift ahead. Their conversations were never lengthy; they mostly operated in silence, although a more comfortable one than on their first day together. Still... there was something about his presence that made it hard for her to concentrate. Especially when he sat so close to her that she could breathe in his natural masculine scent....

They always stuck to the safe topics: Starfleet, academics, and the Enterprise. Anything else was an unspoken taboo. Nothing even remotely personal was discussed; like two animals circling each other, they avoided anything that could possibly touch on the truth they were striving to ignore- but which hovered over them constantly.

After the first half-hour of conversation they fell silent- both out of subjects for discussion. Nyota glanced over at Spock, who appeared to be concentrating on his station rather harder than was necessary considering the lag in incoming communications. And as she looked at his passive features- so hard and cold, masking what she knew was underneath- she thought about what he had told her two weeks earlier.

Duty. Such a simple word, yet it carried so much weight and meaning- so many connotations that could affect so much. She had duties, too- to Starfleet, to not let her mother and father down- to herself to be the best she could be.

But none of those could compare to Spock's duties to his heritage, whatever they might be. She knew how he felt- knew how lonely he was, how much of an outcast he was among his own people. And she knew that the same thing about him that she admired most- the same thing she possibly _loved_ about him- was the same thing that made him an outcast: his uniqueness. And it was this same uniqueness that would pressure him and make him more determined than ever to carry out his duties as a Vulcan rather than as a human.

Duty. She was growing to hate the word. But she understood it.

As she turned back to her console, she wondered what might have happened if he did not have these duties- if their only obstacle had been the fact that she was his student. Would he give in to his emotions then? Or was this duty he spoke of merely an excuse? A way to shield himself from her because of his own fear of being hurt, which had been fostered by a lifetime of rejection?

Nyota pondered this question, her eyes unfocused as she gazed at the glyphs on her screen. She _knew_ Spock felt- perhaps more keenly and deeply than any human- and her heart ached for him, for what he was and the life he was bound to by his birthright.

"Cadet?"

Spock's voice broke through her wandering thoughts and she sat up straighter, clearing her throat."Yes, Commander?" she asked.

"The shift ends in five minutes," he said. She blinked in surprise, checking the clock on her console even though she knew he was right. She hadn't realized how much time had passed. "I will begin the final checks and you may leave."

Nyota didn't dare look at him- she knew how his eyes looked when they were on her. They matched the tone of voice he always used with her, and seeing the look would only make her curse that word _duty_ all the more. Instead she replied; "Sir, I have to finish my translations. It would be better for me to stay behind and finish up."

"Very well," Spock said, and she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye as he stood. "I trust the lab is in capable hands."

Nyota felt a small smile flicker over her lips as he moved past her towards the door. As she watched him go, she recalled what Gaila had said. Maybe she had a point about talking... duty always came first, but maybe an accommodation could be made if they discussed their options... Now that she saw him twice a week, she was finding it more difficult than she'd anticipated to move on; maybe she _wasn't_ supposed to. Maybe there _was_ something they could do that would satisfy the both of them....

When the door slid open again a minute later, she turned back to the entrance, her heart leaping into her throat- whether it was from dread or hope that Spock had returned, she didn't know- but when she saw Commander Ripley, disappointment made her heart sink back down to its proper place.

"Commander," she said, standing at attention.

"Is Spock gone already?" the wizened Commander asked, looking around the lab with a frown on his face, as if expecting to see Spock hiding behind a console.

"Yes, sir, he left a few minutes ago. I was just completing the closing reports for the shift," Nyota replied.

"Damn. He ran diagnostics on the consoles last night and I looked over the results this morning. Meant to get them back to him tonight," Ripley grumbled, running one wrinkled hand through his silver hair distractedly. "Cadet Uhura, the student dorms are close to his quarters and you're about to leave for the night. Could you take this PADD to him? I'd like for him to have it before tomorrow."

Nyota's lips parted slightly but no words came out, her breath catching in her chest. She had absolutely no desire to return to that place; but while Ripley's words indicated that it was a question, the stern look he gave her at her hesitation proved that it was an order.

"Yes, sir," she finally said in a small voice, and as she said the words she felt dread building up in her stomach like a tight knot.

"Good. You can find his room number by consulting the building's directory in the lobby," Ripley said, giving her a warm smile. "Thank you, Cadet."

She took the PADD held out to her and gave him a tight smile, her stomach now roiling unpleasantly. Seeing Spock in class or in a lab was one thing; seeing him in the very place where they had broken every student-teacher regulation was another. It was personal. Private. And she knew it would bring back memories.

"You're welcome, sir," she replied stiffly, but he was already sitting down at a console to take over Delta shift. Without another word, Nyota took a deep breath to steady herself and left the lab, her destination Spock's quarters.

* * *

Settling on the floor of his bedroom, Spock was just sinking into the relaxing depths of meditation when the front door chimed, jarring his senses and ripping him out of that peaceful state. Annoyance flashed through him, but he took a breath to recenter himself before unfolding his legs and standing gracefully from the mat.

"Enter," he commanded. He heard the door slide open... and then a familiar cadence of quiet footsteps against the carpeted floor. He was unsure how he recognized it so easily and quickly, but when he did his gaze fell on his closet, where he could see a shredded cadet's uniform resting on a shelf. He wondered why she was here, and felt a deep uneasiness settle within him as the footsteps stopped before reaching him.

He stayed where he was for a moment longer, a strange nervousness bubbling up within him and making his stomach clench, his respiration and heart rate increasing. She was _here_. In his quarters. But despite his discomfort, he knew he should not- _could_ not- allow this to faze him. He drew himself up and left the bedroom.

She stood in the middle of his living room, looking as nervous as he felt and holding a PADD in her trembling hands.

"Cadet Uhura," he said, and his voice seemed to relax her. The faint trembling stopped and he saw her wet her lips before speaking, gracing his quarters with her melodious voice once again.

"Commander Ripley wanted me to drop this off, sir," she said, her voice even and professional, her eyes determinedly blank. And yet for all her efforts, he knew how she really felt when he reached out for the PADD and their fingers brushed. He was filled with a surge of her own uneasiness- and her sadness as well. Every time he touched her he felt that sadness, that despair... and it mirrored his own.

Their occasional contact was not intentional. But he did not attempt to avoid it, either; Vulcans did not shrink from _all_ contact... only from those people with whom they had no familiarity. Cadet Uhura was not unfamiliar to him- he felt no revulsion at her touch. There was no logical reason to disallow these casual and rare touches.

He did not wish to stop them, anyway.

"Thank you, Cadet," he replied, setting the PADD on his coffee table. There was an awkward silence between them; she stood with her arms folded over her chest, eyes darting around the room. He stood three feet away from her, arms at his sides, his gaze trained on her unwaveringly.

He wondered if she, too, was remembering the night they had spent together in these quarters; the images were again flitting through his mind like a holo-vid stuck on replay. He could almost feel her skin against his- could almost hear her cries of pleasure. The memories forced him to take several deep breaths to center himself.

"Do you require anything further, Cadet?" he finally asked. He feared that if she stayed any longer the temptation would become too great; he would say- or _do-_ something he might regret....

At his words, her features flickered- not in surprise, but as if in realization. Her eyes widened slightly as they finally rested on him and her lips parted.

"Commander..." she said, and then stopped. Her eyes softened and her features lost their hardness as she spoke again. "Spock..." she amended, voice barely above a whisper.

Spock straightened and drew his hands behind his back, clasping them together tightly. "Cadet, please adhere to professional titles." His voice was stern, hiding the warmness he felt rising within him at the sound of his name on her lips.

She shook her head. "I'm not talking to you as my superior at the moment, Spock," she said, voice gentle. "I was just thinking..." She looked away from him, eyes resting on the floor instead.

He should have reprimanded her further; he should have insisted that she maintain professionalism. Instead, he felt something within him give away. "Yes, Nyota?" he asked, his voice as quiet as hers. Her eyes met his again.

"I've been thinking about what you said, Spock. About duty. And I know it's important- I would never even dream of trying to change your mind about that. But maybe..." She hesitated, wetting her lips again. He inclined his head to indicate that she should go on, and this seemed to give her courage. "Maybe we can work something out. Something that will make us both happy but will allow you to... fulfill your duties, whatever they are."

Spock was tempted to drop his gaze from hers. He did not. "What are you suggesting?" he asked, humoring her although he knew no such arrangement could be reached- but he thought he owed it to her to at least listen.

"I don't know." She shook her head, looking away at last and biting her lip. "Maybe we could... be together... but somehow still work around your duty?"

Spock realized that she had no idea he already had a mate waiting for him. She knew nothing. And as he replied to her suggestion, an ache began to throb in the region of his heart. "Nyota, such a thing is impossible," he said gently. "I cannot. The sort of duties I have would prevent anything from coming of a relationship."

"It wouldn't have to be a _relationship_! Just something... temporary."

There was a tinge of desperation in her voice, but he knew when she bit her lip harder that this was not what she truly wanted.

"We cannot," he said, a pang shooting through him at his own words. "That is not what either of us wants, Nyota. It would be foolish to attempt something we would later regret. You know this."

"I wouldn't regret it!" she protested, but he was shaking his head before she even finished.

"I did not mean the casual relationship to which you are referring, but to our inevitable parting of ways. No, Nyota. It would be better to let things be."

Nyota took a shaky breath, but when she let it out she seemed calmer. She looked up at him again, face set in determined lines once more as she gave him a strained smile.

"You're right," she said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "I guess I just wanted to find _some_ way..." She broke off, taking another deep breath.

"Understandable," he replied.

Her smile tightened further until it was almost a grimace. "I should go, Commander," she said. "Have a good evening."

She turned to leave, but had taken only one step when he stopped her- quickly crossing the room to lay a hand on her arm. She turned back, surprise etched onto her features.

He wasn't even sure why he had done it; he had acted on instinct when he saw her turn to leave. It had brought back the memory of waking up to find her gone and hearing the door close behind her....

"Spock?" she asked, slipping back out of her professional manner, her eyes questioning.

He cast about for something to say. At a loss for words, he settled on, "Have a good evening, Cadet."

She continued to look up at him quizzically, but then she nodded and backed away. He released her arm, which he hadn't realized he was still holding, and watched as she headed towards the door.

"See you on Thursday, Commander," she said.

And then the door was sliding open and she was leaving him again.

He turned back to the bedroom, in more need of meditation than he had been in weeks. He had taken two steps toward the doorway when he heard _her_ voice out in the hallway.

"Oh- sorry, Captain," Nyota said.

"No problem, Cadet," came a familiar voice. "Continue on."

He heard Nyota's footsteps retreat down the corridor, and turned back to the living room in time to see Captain Pike frowning in the doorway as he watched her disappear around a corner. He then went through the still-open door and turned to look at Spock. Something in his face- which was more serious than Spock had ever seen it- alerted the Vulcan to the fact that this was no ordinary visit.

"Spock," Pike said, pressing a button to make the door slide shut, "we need to talk."

"And what will be the subject of our conversation, Captain?" Spock asked, again clasping his hands behind his back. He assumed Pike had come to speak to him about the upcoming launch of the Enterprise.

Pike met his gaze, his blue eyes unusually cold. "Cadet Uhura," he replied.


	12. Duty

**A/N: Decided not to make you wait too long. ;) **

**Chapter 12: Duty**

Pike had been watching them for weeks. He hadn't gone out of his way- _much_- but he had observed them when he had the chance. Whenever he'd strolled past Spock's classroom while Cadet Uhura was still his student, he'd looked in. He'd taken Spock to the bar to see how they would interact- had ordered Spock to walk the cadet home, perhaps against his own better judgment. He had even looked in on Commander Ripley's lab during their shifts together- an arrangement which, incidentally, he had suggested to Ripley, citing Spock's prior professional relationship with Uhura as a good reason for them to work together.

But other than a few subtle hints displayed by their body language and the way they looked at each other, nothing had suggested the true nature of their relationship so strongly as seeing Cadet Uhura leave Spock's quarters.

He supposed there could be a rational reason for her to have been there; students often visited instructors after office hours either for immediate assistance, or while running errands for other instructors. But after considering all the evidence- the noises he'd heard _that_ night, Spock's behavior around the cadet, the conversation he'd overheard between them, and this new occurrence of seeing her leave the commander's quarters....

Pike was taking no chances. He was done with guessing. Done with waiting. Goddamn it, Spock was almost like a son to him- if anyone had the right to speak up, it was him. And he _had_ to know.

And so there he stood, across the room from his Vulcan protege, who donned the smooth mask carefully constructed to conceal what he was feeling.

Christopher Pike was not easily fooled. He'd been through a lot of hell in his career in Starfleet: he'd fought Klingons... watched friends die. He had suffered just about every form of injury imaginable: burns, cuts, stabbings, phaserfire; had narrowly escaped with his life from many a dangerous mission. During all his experiences he had learned a thing or two.

Spock had never been able to fool him. Pike saw the glimmer of panic in those dark brown eyes as he announced his reason for being there- could almost _hear_ the Vulcan's heart skip a beat. And in that moment, he knew.

He had been right all along.

He advanced on his second-in-command, eyes steely and determined. He saw Spock's shoulders stiffen at his approach- saw him stand straighter.

"What about her, Captain?" Spock asked evenly.

"I'm not stupid, Spock. And neither are you. I'm a patient man in most circumstances, but not now. Not when the future of my first officer is at stake. Let's just cut straight to the chase, shall we?"

Pike stopped five feet away. He could see every muscle in Spock's body tense up at his words- jaw clenching and back becoming rigid.

"I do not know to what you are referring," Spock said coolly.

"Don't give me that, Spock. You've been around humans long enough to learn how to bend the truth- but you haven't been around long enough to learn how to fool me. Do you or do you not have an inappropriate relationship with the woman who just left your quarters?"

Spock hesitated one second too long, and Pike felt a streak of anxiety run through him. Even while he had strongly suspected the truth, he had hoped he was wrong. But he had never seen Spock hesitate before.

Suspecting was one thing. Knowing the truth and having to act on it was another.

As he watched the Vulcan's mouth open to respond, he wished he didn't live across the hall from him. Wished he'd never heard a thing. Had never overheard that conversation and could just live on in blissful ignorance.

"I do not," Spock finally replied.

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Then Pike blinked, surprised. Maybe he _was_ wrong, then. He was never wrong, but this was one situation in which relief washed over him at the realization. He'd never been more glad to be wrong.

"And have you ever?" he asked.

Spock hesitated again- long enough for Pike's dread to build back up, constricting his chest until he couldn't breathe.

"What would be your definition of an inappropriate relationship, Captain?" Spock asked.

This question did nothing to alleviate his concerns, and Pike suppressed a groan.

"Just describe your relationship with her, Commander," he said, making it clear that he was speaking as Spock's commanding officer.

Spock let out a long breath that was comparable to a resigned sigh. "Cadet Uhura is a former student of mine. She attended my Communications simulations for two quarters. She is a highly capable student, one of my best-scoring pupils and a highly intelligent young woman. We often discussed academics during class, and continue to do so now while working shifts together in Commander Ripley's lab."

Pike mirrored Spock's stance, drawing his hands behind his back and clasping them together as he eyed the younger man. He had been party to many a diplomatic standoff; he knew when something was being left out.

"And?" he asked.

Spock blinked. "I do not know what else you expect me to say, Captain."

"How about not what I _expect_ you to say- but the truth?"

"I have spoken the truth."

"The _whole_ truth?" Pike countered.

Spock hesitated yet again. Pike didn't give him a chance to speak.

"I'm getting tired of the evasive tactics, Spock," he said. "I'll make this blunt and to the point. Have you or have you not had sexual relations with Cadet Uhura?"

Spock's eyes closed briefly and Pike waited patiently, cold dread spreading within him at the revelation he knew was coming.

"I have."

The words were so spoken so quietly Pike had to strain to hear them. There was a silence while he took this confession in, turning it over in his mind and analyzing it.

"You said you don't have a relationship with her," he said slowly.

"I do not," Spock said. "Nor did I when the single incident occurred."

"Am I to understand..." Pike felt anger swelling up within him as the thought occurred. "That maybe it was about... _grades_?"

This evoked the most emotional reaction from the half-Vulcan he had ever seen. His nostrils flared, eyes widening a fraction of an inch; his shoulders squaring as his features hardened and turned cold as ice.

"I have not, nor would I ever, base my grading scale on anything other than class performance," Spock said, his voice almost a growl. "To suggest that I would is an insult to me, and also to the cadet in question, as that implies she sought out a higher mark through inappropriate means."

Pike's eyebrows shot up. "So she _was_ your student at the time?"

"She was," Spock grudgingly allowed, "but that was not a factor."

"And how long ago did this occur?"

There was a pause while he calculated. "Seven weeks and four days ago, Captain."

There was another silence, during which Pike took a deep breath to calm himself. Finally, in an even, controlled tone, he spoke again. "Spock, what the hell were you _thinking_?"

"Captain," Spock's tone was even again as well. "Perhaps I should explain the circumstances to you. Neither Cadet Uhura nor I were functioning normally."

"You were drunk," Pike clarified, his trepidation growing. This was getting worse and worse....

Spock shook his head slowly. "No. We were impaired, but not by alcohol or any other known drug."

"What do you mean 'impaired'," he asked impatiently.

"Seven weeks and four days ago, there was a banquet held to honor fallen Starfleet officers. Cadet Uhura was one of the few cadets invited, and as we were leaving at the same time I offered to escort her back to her dorm. On the way there she expressed a desire to visit the greenhouse. We did so, and encountered a specimen of plant whose spores had... _unusual_ effects on us."

"Unusual effects," Pike repeated blankly.

"Yes, Captain. It induced us to behave... irregularly. I conducted a study on the plant, if you would prefer to observe the facts."

Spock gazed at Pike steadily, silently daring the captain to announce his belief that he was lying. But Pike knew Spock would not- _could_ not- tell an outright lie. He was telling the truth.

"So you're saying that this plant made you and Cadet Uhura... sleep together," he said slowly.

"It induced us to, yes. Neither she nor I would ever have acted in such a way without outside influence."

Pike looked at his protege for a moment, calculating. When he spoke again, the hardness that had been in his voice throughout their encounter had eased away. "Spock, what were the exact effects of this plant? Was it an aphrodisiac?"

He hadn't expected this to be a difficult question for him to answer, but Spock stiffened again, his eyes wavering from Pike's for the first time as he looked down briefly.

"It was a disinhibitor, Captain," he replied after a pause.

"Ah," Pike said. The implications of this rolled over him, and he recalled the look he'd seen in Spock's eyes at the bar; he had been unable to look away from the cadet, completely riveted by her appearance... and then he realized....

Spock was in love with her.

And he doubted the Vulcan even realized that, himself. Or if he did... he certainly hadn't done anything about it.

"What was she doing in your quarters just now, Spock?" he asked, storing this tidbit of information away.

"She brought a PADD from Commander Ripley," Spock replied tersely, and then abruptly changed the subject. "Captain, when shall I expect the subpoena?"

Pike blinked, and then frowned. He walked over to a Vulcan vase that sat on an end table and pretended to be interested in the obsidian carvings.

"A subpoena, Spock?" he questioned.

"I expect that you will report this to the proper authorities and I will be court-martialed. I accept this fact," Spock said evenly. "I must answer for the violation of no less than fifteen Starfleet regulations pertaining to the relationships between instructors and students."

Pike's frown deepened. "As far as I can see," he said, turning back to look at Spock, "you didn't break any regulations. As you said, neither you nor Cadet Uhura were acting of your own volition. You are a Vulcan- which means you wouldn't allow anything personal to affect your grading- and as far as I can tell, there's been no favoritism at all. Which is why those regulations are in place, anyway."

"You are... not going to report this behavior?" Spock asked, his surprise evident as he arched a single black eyebrow.

"I see no reason to. I would be wasting everyone's time, considering you didn't break the regulations of your own accord." Pike shrugged, deciding not to admit that the truth was- he wasn't impartial to this case. Someone _else_ might decide this was a serious offense, but he didn't. "You regret it, right? Wish it had never happened?"

He watched closely for Spock's reaction. When the younger man's eyebrows drew together and a frown appeared on his lips- Pike knew he didn't regret it at all.

"Of course you don't," he said quietly. Before Spock could interrupt, he continued. "I have one last question for you, Spock. What are you waiting for?"

Jet-black, slanted eyebrows drew together even more. Spock tilted his head in confusion. "Captain, I do not understand-"

"I mean Cadet Uhura. What the hell are you waiting for, Spock? A woman like that doesn't come around every lifetime, whether it be as long as a Vulcan's or as short as a human's. She's not your student any more. So why are you _still_ not pursuing her?"

"I have duties to attend to," Spock replied simply.

"Duties?" Pike repeated. "To Starfleet?"

"To my clan," he said.

"To your clan," Pike echoed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he glared at the man before him. "Spock, you're a damned coward."

The Vulcan drew himself up, face set like stone. "Perhaps I misunderstood you, Captain."

"You didn't," Pike replied.

"I fail to comprehend what you are-"

"You're afraid. Afraid to be what you are: half human, half Vulcan. You _want_ to be pure-blooded Vulcan. You want to impress the folks back home with your unfailing logic and unswerving devotion to your Vulcan roots. You want to please _them_. Even your decision to join Starfleet was an attempt to prove yourself."

When Spock opened his mouth to interrupt, Pike raised a hand to stop him before continuing.

"I think you're afraid to be a little human, just once- for yourself and no one else. And someday, when you see Cadet Uhura with someone who's not you- you're going to regret it. You'll realize I'm right. Don't let this opportunity get away from you, Spock. The only thing preventing you from going after her is your own cowardice, and if you stand by and don't do anything about it, I'm going to be disappointed in you."

Spock stared at him as he fell silent, eyes devoid of any emotion. But Pike noted that his posture had relaxed, his hands now at his sides rather than clasped behind his back.

"Meditate on it," he said, his voice quieter. "Ask yourself- are these 'duties' you speak of really duties? Or are they a lifestyle someone else chose _for_ you and you're going to go along with- just because you don't _think_ you have a choice? You're a man of two worlds, Spock- you're never going to fully belong to one or the other. So make your own path."

Pike turned back towards the door, stepping toward it. When it slid open he turned back.

"Your secret's safe with me. But if you can- avoid anything that could be misconstrued as favoritism. That could be disastrous, and I still want you as my first officer. I'm not going to let this become a black mark on your otherwise flawless record." He paused one last time, debating before adding, "Just remember everything I said, and think about it. I meant every word."

Spock watched him go, unsure of what had just transpired. Confused and weighed down with entangled emotions from the events of the evening, he turned and reentered his bedroom. He had more than enough to meditate on tonight: Cadet Uhura's appearance and subsequent proposition... Captain Pike's visitation and the things he'd said....

He wondered whether or not Pike's statements held merit.

T'Pring... he was bound to her by duty. He'd always assumed he had no choice- and of course he did not. She was to be his wife, she had been preselected for him by his father. That was the way things had always been done on Vulcan, and despite Pike's insistence to the contrary- he could not forsake the duty he had to his clan to follow through with the marriage.

And yet... despite his certainty that he must follow this path, his captain's words still circled in his mind... chasing each other and becoming clearer with every revolution.


	13. Clarity

**A/N: It's a short one... but pretty important. ;)**

**Chapter 13: Clarity**

Nyota knew Spock would pretend that the conversation in his quarters hadn't happened. But even if he could do that- _she_ couldn't. As she walked toward Ripley's lab yet again for her Tuesday shift, she felt the familiar sense of dread uncoiling in her gut.

She'd been grasping at straws. She had acted out of desperation. She didn't want to give in without a fight; her mother had said love was worth fighting for. And she'd thought she would fight one last time.

But Nyota Uhura wasn't the type to offer herself up on a platter, no strings attached. It had been an impulsive decision- and a stupid one. She'd been weak, desperate- not at all the woman she wanted to be.

If this was what her feelings for Spock could reduce her to, she wasn't sure it was a bad thing her proposition had been shot down. Spock was right- it wasn't what either of them wanted. She didn't want to be his plaything, to be tossed aside when duty came calling.

As the lab doors slid open, Nyota squared her shoulders and held her head high, stepping inside. If Spock was already there, she would show him that she was unperturbed by his decision- the rejection she couldn't blame him for.

"Uhura!" came a voice from one of the consoles. But the voice wasn't deep enough or smooth enough to belong to the man part of her had longed to see.

"Hey, Everson," she acknowledged with a curt nod, her posture relaxing somewhat. "Are your closing reports completed?"

"Yeah, I just have to sign out," Everson said, flashing her a smile.

Her face still and composed, she set her bag down next to her own console. "Anything major come through?"

"Some smugglers carrying Romulan ale were picked up not too far out in the Sol system," he replied with a shrug. "Other than that, nothing."

Nyota had expected as much. They never received much communications traffic; Ripley's lab was mostly used by cadets who needed to gain experience with real transmissions. Nothing interesting ever came in.

She watched as Everson turned to his console and signed out from Gamma shift. As soon as the screen flashed its confirmation she turned to clock in. Before she could touch the screen, he reached over and stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Wait," he said, his voice low.

Nyota sighed, turning to him. "Everson, I have to clock in."

"Uhh..." he hesitated. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him expectantly as he continued. "There's something I want to talk to you about, but I don't suppose it would be ethical when we're both on duty. I don't see you around often, so I thought maybe now that we're both between shifts, it would be the best time."

Raising one eyebrow, she uncrossed her arms, placing them on her hips instead. "Well?" she prompted.

Everson looked nervous. He shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room like a teenager about to ask a girl to the prom. When several long seconds passed and he still stood before her without saying a word, she sighed impatiently.

Spock had never hesitated so long. Vulcans said what was on their minds, and nervousness never prevented them from it. He wouldn't have kept her waiting, especially when he knew she had work to do.

Finally, Everson spoke.

"I was thinking... maybe we could go out Friday night."

Nyota blinked. It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did there was a strange tightening sensation in her stomach.

A date. He was asking her out on a date.

After the realization, she felt a twinge of irritation. _This_ was what he had been so nervous about? A simple question? Spock would never have made such a fuss over something so trivial, so _juvenile_....

She shook herself mentally to clear her mind of _him_. She focused instead on the cadet before her, who watched her closely as he waited for a response. She and Everson had been in several classes together the past few years; they'd even partnered up for projects and studied together at the library. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes... quite good-looking.

But she didn't feel anything for him beyond friendship, and never had. He'd flirted with her before- but he'd never shown any real interest in her.

Until now.

When she was still struggling with her feelings for someone else.

Nyota opened her mouth to refuse- but the words died long before they reached her lips. As she looked at her classmate, whose eyes scanned her face anxiously, she thought about Spock again.

Their last conversation had made one thing clear: she was wasting her time with him. She was young, and damn it- she couldn't afford to waste her youth waiting for a man who might never come around to face the truth about his feelings for her.

She had fought her battle and lost. There was only one thing she could do now: she had to move on, no matter how much it pained her. There was no reason to let the way she felt about _him_ be the only thing that kept her from possibly finding someone else who could make her happy- _without_ all the complications.

"Sure," she heard herself reply, forcing a smile onto her face as she looked up at Everson. "What time?"

Relief washed over his features as he grinned. "Great. I can pick you up at 1800 hours."

"Sounds great," she said, wondering if her voice sounded _too_ cheerful.

"Well... I'll see you then," he said, smiling warmly at her. "You should probably clock in now, and I have studying to do for a test tomorrow."

"See you Friday," she said as he stepped around her. Nyota turned to watch him leave- and stopped cold.

Spock stood just inside the doorway. He looked as he always did: face blank, eyes shielded, posture straight. But something in the way he watched Everson as he greeted the commander and left, told her he had heard everything.

Once Everson was gone, she met Spock's eyes briefly from across the room. His expression was stony- far colder than she had ever seen it. And as she gazed into the bottomless black depths, her heart sank with sudden doubt.

But then, just as quickly as the moment of regret flitted through her mind, she squared her shoulders and held her head high again, chin jutting out defiantly. She didn't care if he'd heard. She couldn't _afford_ to care. Her decision was made: Spock was past history. She was done with waiting for what she knew would never come.

She was Nyota Uhura. She would endure.

* * *

_"I was thinking... maybe we could go out Friday night."_

_ "Sure. What time?"_

They had been meaningless sounds, ricocheting through Spock's mind with no clarity. He had not immediately comprehended them. He had not wanted to.

But as the man he recognized to be Cadet Everson smiled down at Nyota, stating a time he would pick her up- and as she agreed- something finally clicked.

An emotion that was entirely Vulcan erupted deep within him, heating his blood and making his nostrils flare. Spock's hands flexed at his sides as he stood just inside the door, watching the couple before him. Nyota was smiling up at the human; he was smiling back down at her.

Possessiveness. Envy. Anger. The new emotion was comprised of these lesser elements, magnified tenfold. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and it was all he could do to control it- to prevent himself from lunging across the room.

Spock was well aware of what was happening. This cadet had asked _his_ Nyota on what humans termed a "date." An inane, _human_, courtship ritual. And these courtship rituals, more often than not, led to touching. To kissing. To physical consummation. To marriage. This male wanted Nyota to be his. This offer was a display of his desire to know her in every way- body, mind and soul.

And she had accepted.

How dare this inferior human attempt to usurp Spock's place in Nyota's arms? How dare Everson try to take what was HIS? How dare this human even _ponder_ the possibility of taking his mate from him?

But then... unbidden and from the depths of his seething mind came a name, rising through this newborn tide of emotion.

T'Pring.

The name meant little to him. _She_ meant _nothing_ to him.

T'Pring was a name, an idea, a faint memory from his childhood. He'd always associated the name with his destiny- with his clan. But now he associated it with a marriage that would be a prison, the shackles the mating bond that would, one day, draw them inexorably together and seal his doom.

T'Pring. He rarely thought of her. She was a flicker in the back of his mind, a transient presence he often forgot about and never reached for.

T'Pring. A woman he did not want and had never wanted. A woman who did not want him and preferred another, if rumors were to be believed.

T'Pring. A woman who was not Nyota.

She was the wife chosen for him as per his people's custom. But in his mind, in his heart, and deep down in his spiritual essence- his _katra_- he knew _Nyota_ was his rightful mate.

And as Everson turned to face him, Spock had never felt such rancor. This human wanted _his_ mate. He'd never wanted to inflict bodily harm on another as much as he did right then.

"Good evening, Commander," Cadet Everson said cheerfully as he went by.

Spock did not reply. He watched coolly as the offending human exited through the doors. He found himself illogically wishing the cadet would trip to show Nyota his inferiority.

Then they were left in silence. He turned to face her, careful not to show even a flicker of what he was feeling, lest it alarm her. As their eyes met, she bit her bottom lip, her expressive dark eyes hesitant and filled with emotion as she looked at him. The new, dark feeling within him eased away as he felt the more familiar emotions he always associated with her take its place: peace, affection, tenderness, longing....

But then a change came over her features. She straightened, her gaze hardening into determined ferocity. Drawing herself up, she took in a deep breath.

"Good evening, Commander," she said evenly.

"Good evening," he returned flatly, the alien emotion beginning to creep back in as she settled into her cold demeanor. She had never looked at him like this before. It must be Everson's fault.

Head held high, she turned away from him to clock in. As his eyes bored into her back, he remembered how she'd smiled up at Everson. She had accepted the human- with Spock standing just ten feet away. She had seemed... _happy_ as she said yes.

Pike was correct. It had not been until he considered the possibility of Nyota's being with another that he realized he hadn't fought for her hard enough.

And now, as she sat down at her console and began to work without another word, he realized with a sharp pang of sorrow that he had lost her.


	14. Mother Knows Best

**Chapter 14: Mother Knows Best**

Over the next two days, Spock saw Cadet Everson no less than five times. He passed him in the corridors, in the mess hall, out on the quad as the cadet walked by with his group of companions... and every time he laid eyes on the young human, that alien emotion surged through him. It filled his mind with a black cloud of savage loathing, accompanied by the dark urge to wrap his fingers around Everson's throat and squeeze slowly....

Each time this happened, he managed to quell the tumultuous feelings long enough to return to his quarters and meditate. But it was becoming more difficult all the time to master the emotion whenever it surfaced from its slumber in the depths of his Vulcan mind.

As he headed towards Ripley's lab for his and Nyota's Thursday shift, Spock was centered and calm once again after a two-hour meditative session. He was resolved: he would make an attempt to convince Nyota to cancel her social arrangement with Everson. She had refused to talk about the matter on Tuesday- but he had every intention of discussing it today. He did not know _what_ he would say to her- he only knew that he must let her know he heavily disapproved of her "dating" the human cadet.

He hadn't seen her at all in the past two days. This was not unusual; he rarely saw her outside the lab. But what he had witnessed at the beginning of their last shift had made the intervening forty-eight hours seem far longer than usual. Over that time, the conversation he had witnessed- the smile Nyota had given the human cadet- swam into his mind's eye far too often. When he meditated, when he graded simulations, when he was in class... there was only one way to silence his troubled mind. He _must_ speak to her about Everson....

But when the lab doors slid open, he stopped in his tracks.

"Good evening, Commander," said the male cadet who was obviously _not_ Nyota.

"Cadet Rivers," Spock said flatly, managing to conceal his disappointment as he drew his hands behind his back and coolly looked at the cadet before him. Rivers had been his student a few quarters ago; he was a productive student, but not nearly as talented as Nyota.

"I'll be working this shift with you," Rivers explained as he turned to fiddle with his controls.

"Is Cadet Uhura ill?" Spock asked. The sudden thought filled him with concern, his stomach clenching and spine straightening. Perhaps she was in her dorm, unable to move or call for help... she might need assistance....

"No, sir," Rivers said. "My shift schedule was interfering with my studies, so she offered to switch with me. We already cleared it up with Commander Ripley."

Spock felt his heart sink. "Is this a permanent change?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Yes, sir. Cadet Uhura is now taking Gamma shift on Mondays and Wednesdays." Rivers smiled.

Spock found nothing amusing about the situation. Without another word, he sat at his console, the smallest of frowns playing about his mouth as he inserted his earpiece.

Nyota had taken this step to intentionally move away from him- that was the only explanation he could think of for this abrupt change of shifts. It was a further sign of her new attachment to Everson; surely she wouldn't have done such a thing if she were not involved with that human....

Taking a deep breath to re-center himself, Spock focused his gaze on the screen before him. Now was not the time to think about Everson- _or_ Nyota. He must attend to his work, and he could not do so with the black rage inside him, lurking and waiting to fill him again....

The time passed slowly. Spock shut Rivers out as he droned on about some insignificant subject or another. He much preferred Nyota's smooth, feminine voice. _She_ always had something interesting to say; he always looked forward to their lab conversations. She was a much better conversationalist than the man now seated across from him.

The man who, Spock was quickly realizing, was wholly inadequate for the task at hand.

"Cadet," Spock said sharply, cutting Rivers off mid-sentence as he chattered on about a sport called 'football', "you are not focusing your attention on your station."

Rivers' eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "Sir, I _am_ focusing."

"You are not," Spock said coolly. "Check your last transmission. You missed a signal."

"What? No, I didn't...." Rivers frowned as he squinted at his screen.

"Listen to it again," Spock said, forcing down the irritation welling up inside him. "You missed the third click on the second string."

Rivers' frown deepened as he replayed the message, then replayed it twice more. After the third time, he sat back, slowly shaking his head.

"Sir, I don't hear it. There's a pause after the second click, but I don't hear a click during the pause," Rivers said.

Spock replayed the transmission himself, listening intently. Sure enough, the third click was there- faint, due to a bad signal, but there.

It occurred to him that perhaps Rivers couldn't hear it at all.

He blinked, sitting back as he stared at the transmission readout on the screen. Nyota had excellent hearing for a human- she would not have missed it. He was accustomed to working with her superior skills. Perhaps he had been irrational in expecting an average human to catch the slight fluctuation- but he expected much higher standards from a Starfleet cadet.

"You should pay closer attention to what you hear instead of talking," Spock said, annoyed as he turned away from Rivers, who returned to his station without another word.

By the time the shift was over and he signed out, Spock found himself even more disappointed with Rivers' abilities. He had caught no less than three translation discrepancies in the cadet's work- minor and easy to miss, but still... _Nyota_ never made mistakes, even small ones. The other cadets should be held to her standard if they were to succeed in Starfleet. Rivers' falling short of these expectations only solidified Spock's certainty that Nyota was a far better candidate to become a communications officer than any other cadet.

He was relieved to be away from Rivers as he made his way across the quad and into his building, but the frustration still pulled at him. He wanted Nyota back in the lab with _him_- where she belonged. The thought that he did not know when- or if- he would see her again, made him feel heavy, weighted down with disappointment. He disliked the thought of not seeing her again, almost as much as he disliked Everson.

The turbolift doors slid open, and Spock headed down the hall to his quarters. He commanded the door to open and, desperately needing to meditate, he quickly stepped inside.

He stopped cold in the doorway.

The lights in his quarters were on, the sounds of running water and metal clinking against metal reaching him from the kitchen. There was the soft rustling of clothing as someone moved in the other room.

Body rigid with alarm, he slowly advanced toward the kitchen. Who would dare enter his quarters in his absence? Only one other person had unlimited access- Captain Pike. But _he_ certainly would not come in when Spock was not there....

He heard movement; soft footsteps against the tiled floor as this someone made their way toward the living room. He could see their shadow against the wall, looming larger- and then they were turning the corner.

He was prepared to strike if need be; knees bent slightly, every muscle in his body tensed for a fight as he raised his arms....

"Spock!" came the familiar, warm voice.

He blinked in surprise, staring at the woman standing in the entrance to the kitchen. She smiled widely in return, eyes sparkling with mirth and affection.

"Mother," he said blankly as he slowly eased out of the first position of Suus Mahna. "Why are you here?"

"Am I not allowed to visit my son?" Amanda Grayson asked with a laugh as she went to him, placing her arms around him and- to his great discomfort- hugging him tightly before pulling away and placing her cool hands on his face. "Your father and I are here for a diplomatic conference. How are you? You haven't called in weeks. I was starting to worry."

"I am well, Mother. I would have contacted you if I was ill," Spock replied, stepping away from her. "How did you gain admittance to my quarters?"

Amanda placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she smiled up at him.

"Captain Pike from across the hall let me in. I waited down in the lobby for almost two hours. Finally, he asked who I was. I told him, and _he_ told me you were working a shift in the communications lab. So he let me in here to wait. It was very kind of him. I hope it's not a problem, Spock?"

He hesitated. In truth, it _was_ a problem. He needed to meditate, but while she was there he could not adjourn to his bedroom to do so. On the other hand, he had not spoken to her in several weeks- and had not seen her in almost a year. He could not find it within him to turn his mother away.

"I will not ask you to leave," Spock answered, stepping around her.

"Good, because I wasn't going to," Amanda said cheerfully as she turned to head back into the kitchen. "I made some tea," she added over her shoulder.

"Mother, while I appreciate this visitation, I have important matters to attend to," Spock said, folding his arms over his chest as he frowned at her retreating back. "I have no wish to rush you. Yet I-"

"I never get to see you, and this is how you treat me?" Amanda asked, stopping in the doorway and turning back to face him with another smile. "Spock, whatever it is, it can wait at least long enough for you to visit with your poor old mother. It's been too long since I've seen you face-to-face."

This was true, and Spock suppressed another sigh, his arms falling to his sides in surrender. Now was certainly _not_ the best time for her to be there, yet he knew she suffered from an illogical need to be in his physical presence. Speaking to him on the comm unit to ascertain his continuing health did not seem to appease her.

"Is something wrong, Spock?" she suddenly asked, her smile fading as she stepped forward to peer up at him. "You seem... agitated."

"I am not agitated, Mother," Spock replied automatically.

Amanda scoffed. "And they say Vulcans can't lie. Spock, you're my son. I know when something's bothering you."

He did not reply, training his gaze on an ancient stone tablet hanging on the wall over her shoulder, instead. He could not deny he was bothered- but he had no desire to talk to her about it.

She sighed, shaking her head as she looked up at him. "If I'd known you really didn't want me here, I wouldn't have come," she said as she turned away.

"Mother, it is not your presence which bothers-"

He stopped abruptly, catching himself. But it was too late. She turned back around to face him.

"So you _admit_ something's bothering you?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow.

"I admit nothing," Spock replied stiffly.

Amanda shook her head again in exasperation. "If it's that hard for you, then don't talk to me about it." She turned back to the kitchen before stopping again. "By the way, do you have any spare light panels for the kitchen? The one over the sink is out."

"In my bedroom closet," Spock replied, turning away to rearrange a stack of PADDs on the coffee table. While she headed into the bedroom, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He must regain control of his emotions- he knew his mother would not leave the matter alone if he continued to be "agitated."

On the fourth deep breath, he felt himself relax, the tension easing out of his muscles. At the same time, he remembered something... and quickly turned to the bedroom, taking three long strides until he stood in the doorway- heart pounding in his side.

"_Spock_?" came the disbelieving voice before he could speak. "What is _this_?"

Spock stared, his heart now seemingly at a complete standstill. His mother stood before the open closet door, holding a pile of tattered red cloth in her hands, a half-bewildered, half-amused look on her face as her eyebrows rose.

If he were entirely human, he would have cringed.

"This looks _suspiciously_ like a cadet uniform, Spock," Amanda continued slowly, looking thoughtfully at the cloth in her hands. "A _female_ cadet uniform."

His heart, now sinking in his side, was rapidly beating again. He was caught. What would his mother think of Nyota? Of the events that had transpired between them? Of the fact that she had been his student at the time? Would she tell his father? Surely Sarek would be even more displeased with Spock than he already was... he would be convinced that Spock was irresponsible and falling to human ways....

She watched him closely, and- seeming to know what was going through his mind- she stepped closer, looking up at him sympathetically.

"Spock, is this in any way connected to what's bothering you?" she asked quietly.

He did not reply, still staring at the shredded remnants of Nyota's uniform. Amanda sighed again and went to him, placing her hand on his arm and tugging gently. Giving in to the silent plea, he followed her as she led him into the kitchen.

"Sit. We need to talk," she said, pointing at the small square table.

"Mother, I have no wish to-"

"Spock, I know you. And I knew when I saw your face- the panicked look in your eyes- that this uniform means something to you." She held up the aforesaid garment before placing it on the table in front of him. "You might not want to talk about it, but it's obvious you need to."

Fighting back the urge to sigh, Spock sat in the chair as his mother went to the counter, where a steaming pot of tea sat. After filling two cups, she set one in front of Spock before taking the seat across from him.

"Spock, are you having girl trouble?" Amanda asked, smirking up at him as she blew on her tea to cool it down.

Spock leaned back, a frown flickering over his features again. But, before he could respond, she continued.

"It was a joke," she said quickly.

"I am not amused," Spock said flatly.

Amanda rolled her eyes, then grew serious. "Spock, what's the story behind this? I'm not asking for details," she added when she saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Only the bare essentials."

Spock hesitated again. He did _not_ want to discuss Nyota with his mother. It was a painful subject for him as it was- rehashing the story would not help. It certainly had not helped when he told it to Captain Pike.

"Several weeks ago, we experienced the unexpected biochemical effects from a plant in the academy greenhouse. Certain... events... took place as a result," Spock replied tersely. "There is nothing else to tell, Mother."

"Nothing at all?" she asked disbelievingly, arching an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I am," Spock responded, setting his cup down with a click on the table.

"And what is your relationship with this woman _now_?" Amanda asked.

"She was, until today, my colleague," Spock replied, unable to keep the traces of bitterness from his tone.

"I mean _outside_ of work," Amanda explained, setting her cup down and propping her elbows on the table, chin resting on one hand.

"It is...." Spock trailed off. He had no words to describe their relationship.

"Complicated?" she finished with a small, sad smile.

"Quite," he agreed.

"Then why did you keep the uniform as a token- which I know it is- if this was just a one-time thing and you have no relationship with this woman?" Amanda asked.

Spock shifted in his seat, regretting the conversation already.

"I... do not know," he replied truthfully.

"I see." Amanda's eyes shined with humor as she looked at him. "You fell for her."

"I do not understand that phrase," Spock said.

"You don't need to," Amanda said with a shrug and another smile. "Does she know how you feel?"

"I believe we should terminate this conversation," Spock said, standing abruptly.

"Sit down," she snapped, glaring up at him. It was the look he remembered from the rare occasions in his youth when he managed to anger her.

She was his elder, and his mother. It was only logical to obey her and sit back down.

"Spock," Amanda cleared her throat, face settled back into its former soft lines, "I think you know what I'm talking about. I'm sure she feels the same way. So how is this complicated?"

"How can you be certain that she feels the same way?" Spock challenged, forgetting that he was supposed to deny all emotional attachment as he tried to quash his rising hope.

"Take it from me, Spock. Human women aren't immune to the mysterious allure of a Vulcan man." Amanda's eyes sparkled with laughter. "She'd be crazy not to feel the same way. Besides, you said this was complicated- if she didn't feel the same way, you wouldn't think it was. So I _know_ you know I'm right."

Feeling himself give in, Spock's shoulders slumped slightly. "She is... currently involved with another." The words brought forth the memory again: Everson asking _his_ Nyota on a date... _his_ Nyota accepting....

A shiver ran down his spine, and he made no attempt to conceal the disgust in his tone when he spoke again. "I disapprove of her choice."

"Was she seeing this other person when the... _incident_ occurred?" she asked.

"No, it is a recent development. She accepted an offer for a social engagement tomorrow."

"So this is her first date with the man?"

"Yes," Spock quietly replied.

"Then I don't understand what the problem is," Amanda said, brow furrowing.

"She agreed to the courtship. She wishes to pursue a relationship with him."

"Not necessarily." Amanda shook her head. "Spock, I need to explain something to you. Humans don't always take dating seriously. Just because they go on a date- or even a few- doesn't mean they want to marry the other person, or even get into a relationship. If she's only just recently started seeing this man, I see no reason for you to not still have a chance. But you have to _want_ to take it."

"There is no guarantee she would refuse this 'date' now," Spock pointed out.

"There's no guarantee she wouldn't," Amanda retorted. "I'm sure, if she knows how you feel, and if she feels the same way, she'll give you another chance. For a Vulcan to give his heart away is a rare thing, Spock, and I'm sure she knows that."

"I..." Spock paused, catching himself as he almost uttered the word 'fear'. "I am _concerned_ that my chance is already gone, Mother. She appeared quite content while accepting the offer of courtship."

Amanda leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "What did you say to her to drive her away, Spock?" she asked, tone lowered.

Spock straightened in his chair, taken aback. "I said nothing other than the truth. There are certain obstacles, as you are aware, and a relationship between her and myself is impossible."

"So you rejected her. Without even considering alternatives." Amanda sighed. Then she shook her head yet again. "Spock, as Vulcan as you are, you still have some qualities of a human male when it comes to cluelessness about women."

"I do not understand," Spock said, eyebrows drawing together.

"She accepted this date _because_ you rejected her. She's trying to move on. Which means- _you still have a chance_."

"That may very well be," Spock said slowly, "but there is still the obstacle I mentioned. An obstacle of which you are well aware."

"What? T'Pring?" Amanda scoffed. "I'm not worried about her."

"She is my selected mate. We are bonded and someday we must marry," Spock reminded her.

"According to whom?" Amanda asked breezily, picking up her cup and sipping her tea. "You may be Vulcan, Spock, but you have some of my blood in you, too- which gives you freedom of choice. You're only beholden to the Vulcan way because you _choose_ to be. I, for one, was never one of T'Pring's advocates. Your father and I didn't speak for weeks after the bonding ceremony because _I_ firmly believed you should be able to choose your own mate. He finally convinced me in the end- but only because we expected you to spend your life on Vulcan. Once you entered Starfleet, I retracted all support for the marriage."

"That does not help my situation in any way, Mother," Spock said.

"Of course it does. Haven't you been listening, Spock?" Amanda leaned forward, cradling her teacup in her hands. "You have a choice. You always have. The marriage was arranged for you because your father feared you would one day undergo the Time and not have a mate ready. He believed it would be much more difficult for you, with your mixed heritage, to find a woman willing to take you. Of course, his view was limited solely to Vulcan women. He didn't seem to consider the fact you might want a human." Amanda pressed her lips together as she looked down into the brown liquid in her cup. "The bottom line is, you and I both know you don't want to marry T'Pring. And from what I've heard, she doesn't want to marry you either. The logical course of action would be to end the bond."

"I have no justification for such an action," Spock pointed out, folding his arms over his chest.

"You have plenty. Aren't the lack of desire for one another and incompatibility perfectly logical reasons for ending a match? You would both be miserable otherwise. Not even Vulcans condone misery, Spock. It's obvious you both prefer others."

"My father would disapprove," Spock said quietly.

Amanda pursed her lips. "Don't you worry about your father. He has absolutely _no_ right to talk on the matter. He chose _me_ over a Vulcan woman, too."

Spock stared at his mother, stunned. "My father chose you over a Vulcan wife?" he asked.

"He did." Amanda nodded. "Spock, you already made it clear when you joined Starfleet and turned down the Vulcan Science Academy that you're choosing your own path. I doubt your father would be much surprised by _this_."

Amanda stood, setting her empty teacup on the counter before turning back to him. "I want you to be happy. And you _won't_ be with T'Pring. If the woman to whom that uniform belongs means anything to you at _all_, you have to do the right thing- which is what _you_ want, not what everyone _else_ wants."

Her words echoed strangely in his mind, calling forth Pike's own words... they were startlingly similar. But before he could process them, Amanda glanced around at the clock and sighed.

"I have to go. Your father and I leave in the morning."

Spock stood also, towering over his human mother as he looked down at her. "Mother, if I do not end the betrothal to T'Pring... will you believe me to have done the wrong thing?" he asked.

Amanda gave him a small smile, the fine lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes crinkling. "You have my support in everything you do, Spock. It has always been so and that will never change. The decision is yours, not mine. While I might have my personal opinion, it doesn't matter."

She drew away from him, picking up her bag from the counter. Spock followed her out into the living room, where she paused in the doorway.

"Perhaps you should go see your father before we leave tomorrow," she suggested gently. "He was too busy to come with me, but..." She trailed off. As much as she was trying to convince herself, they both knew Sarek had not been "too busy" to accompany her.

"That would be unwise," Spock said quietly. He watched as his mother's smile tightened, her eyes filled with sadness.

"I hope that one day you two will realize how foolish you're being, and I hope I'm around to see it," she said. "But I'm tired of trying to be the mediator. I've been in that position for years now, and it's done our family little good. My last hope is that you two will reconcile on your own."

She pressed her palm against the release button, and the doors slid open.

"I'm glad I saw you again, my son," Amanda said, reaching over to squeeze his hand before pulling away. "And I hope our discussion helped you."

Spock watched as she walked out of his quarters, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He stood in the doorway until she had disappeared into the lift.

He retrieved the torn cadet uniform from the table and replaced it on its shelf, smoothing the wrinkles out of the fabric that was still faintly spiced with jasmine. It was then that he realized he no longer required meditation: the conversation with his mother had given him the peace he sought.

He still had a chance. Nyota was not lost to him.

**A/N: For those of my readers that haven't read The Vulcan's Wife, my Sarek/Amanda origins story, what Amanda said about Sarek choosing her over a Vulcan wife comes from that story. I just wanted to explain that bit. **


	15. The Date

**A/N: Sorry it took so long- writer's block and all! Hopefully I'm over it now....**

**Chapter 15: The Date**

Nyota could feel a pair of eyes boring into her as she leaned toward the mirror, clipping back the front part of her hair and leaving the rest loose around her shoulders. Smoothing it down, she looked at the reflection of her roommate and sighed.

Gaila had been staring at her reproachfully ever since Nyota began to get ready for her date. Fifteen minutes later, the silent green figure still sat on her bed, legs drawn up to her chest and chin resting on her knees as she glared.

"_What_, Gaila?" Nyota finally asked in exasperation, unable to stand another moment of the silent disapproval hanging thick in the air.

"I still think you're making a mistake," the Orion promptly replied.

"How is this a _mistake_?" Nyota turned to her friend with her hands on her hips. "I'm moving on, which is a _good_ thing."

"'Moving on' can't be forced," Gaila said wisely. "You're forcing it."

"What is that supposed to even _mean_?" Nyota asked as she sat on the edge of her bed to zip up her boots. "And when did _you_, the Queen of One-Night Stands, become an expert on relationships?"

The rhetorical question was met with silence. Nyota didn't need to see the hurt expression on her friend's face to know that what she'd just said had stung the Orion deeply. Heaving a deep sigh, she stood and turned to Gaila.

"Gaila, I didn't mean that. But I don't understand why you're defending Spock, and I really don't _want_ to know why. But this is _my_ business and I can go on a date if I want to, regardless of what you think about it. Okay?"

Now it was Gaila's turn to sigh, this time in frustration as she unfolded her legs and leaned back on her elbows. Still glaring up at her friend, Gaila spoke.

"But that's just it. You _don't_ want to go on this date. You're only going because you feel you _should_ be seeing other people as long as the Commander is unavailable."

"Well, shouldn't I?" Nyota asked angrily. "I can't wait around for him to come to his senses! He's _Vulcan_, Gaila. Once he makes up his mind, he's not going to budge. I see no reason to mope around about it when I _could_ be finding someone better."

"But you don't _want_ to find anyone better," Gaila pointed out. "So, _logically_, you should be trying to get _him_ to come to his senses instead of going out on dates with males you don't have the slightest interest in."

Nyota's fingers flexed as she fought back the urge to strangle her friend- especially at the use of the word "logically." It was _his_ word, and Gaila had intentionally used it to mock her.

As if reading her mind, Gaila continued before she could say anything.

"I've seen you during this whole fiasco, Nyota," she said gently. Her features were serious as she sat up. "I know how you feel about the Commander, and I know you'll realize I'm right- that this date is a bad idea. You're going for all the wrong reasons."

"That's for _me_ to decide, not you," Nyota said sharply.

"Fine." Gaila shrugged, and then a smirk crossed her lips. "I wonder who's better in bed, though. You'll _have_ to let me know. My bet's on the Commander- Everson won't even be in the same league."

The mischievous grin now spreading on Gaila's face told Nyota that the Orion was trying to get a rise out of her. Refusing to take the bait, she turned to check her appearance in the mirror one last time.

"As far as I know, I'm not going to sleep with Everson," she said stiffly as she smoothed down her charcoal-gray blouse and picked a bit of lint off her black slacks. Not knowing where she was going on her date, she hadn't bothered to dress up too fancy... besides, it was only _Everson_....

"Of course not." Gaila shrugged. "The only man you want to sleep with at the moment is Commander Spock."

Nyota opened her mouth to retort- but the door chimed before she could. Throwing a despairing look at her roommate, she picked up her jacket from the bed and went to the door.

"Have a good date," Gaila called after her cheerfully, "although I doubt you will. I, on the other hand, have an appointment with Jim Kirk."

Nyota repressed the shudder that always accompanied the sound of that name as she pressed the button to open the door, forcing a smile onto her face as she was met with the sight of her date.

"Good evening, Everson," she said, stepping outside and letting the door slide shut behind her.

"You look nice," Everson said with a more natural smile, "and please, call me Eric."

"Eric," she repeated, deciding right away that she preferred to call him Everson. "Thank you. You look nice, too."

There was a pause, the two of them looking at each other awkwardly before she added, "Shall we go?"

"Of course," he replied, flashing a grin at her and offering his arm. "My car's out front."

With a weak smile, Nyota pretended not to notice the proffered arm. She gestured for him to lead the way and, taking it in stride, Everson started down the hall and she fell in beside him.

* * *

Nyota stared out the hover-car window with her hands folded in her lap, watching the brightly-lit buildings of downtown San Francisco as they passed them by. She didn't know where Everson was taking her, but she hoped they would arrive soon.

Normally, she had no difficulties finding topics for conversation. Even with Spock, one of the toughest people she knew to converse with, she managed to find subjects of interest to discuss. They usually stuck to academics and scientific journals, but her conversations with Spock had always been enjoyable and stimulating on an intellectual level.

But tonight, her skills as a linguist seemed to have fled her. The ride in the vehicle was silent and fraught with tension as Everson glanced over at her every ten seconds, obviously waiting for her to say something. Despite her best efforts to think of something- _anything_- to say, nothing came to her and the silence continued.

Neither of them spoke until the hover-car came to a stop in front of a restaurant. The fancy blue neon writing over the entrance proclaimed the establishment to be the "Blue Galaxy." It was an old-fashioned brick building that had seemingly stood on the spot for centuries, time and the elements eroding the bricks until they had a distinctly worn look about them.

"A friend recommended this place to me," Everson said as they walked toward the entrance, breaking the quiet at last. "It's supposed to have excellent cuisine from all over the galaxy."

"I've heard of it," Nyota replied as he opened the door for her. Indeed, she _had_ heard of it. The Blue Galaxy was a highly popular restaurant in San Francisco- and it wasn't cheap. Part of her wished he wasn't so willing to spend so much on her....

Stepping through the door, she found herself in a large room with tables situated neatly all around a circular stage in the center. Despite the old-fashioned appearance on the outside, the inside of the restaurant was modern, with metal and glass glittering everywhere, the walls and floor shining almost blindingly white. The tables were occupied by members of every Federation species, their various languages and dialects mingling together with the upbeat music coming from the band onstage. The aromas of cooking food- some familiar, most not- wafted from the direction of the kitchens, the doors separating the patrons from the cooks sliding open to reveal the din of clanking pans and shouted orders as the waiters and waitresses hurried in and out with trays of dishes.

Once they were seated in a distant corner, Nyota picked up her menu- eager to avoid the silence that still stretched on between her and her date.

"So..." Everson began a few minutes later, after the waitress had left with their order. "Do you watch sports?"

"No, I don't," she replied. There was a pause, Everson looking at her expectantly. Not knowing what he wanted her to say, she added, "Do you?"

It was a stupid question, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

But it appeared this was all Everson needed to propel him into a windy, impassioned speech about his favorite and least favorite teams. Nyota, who knew almost nothing about sports, half-listened with glazed eyes as she wondered when their dinner would arrive.

Spock would certainly never have sent her into this state of boredom, she thought to herself as she watched Everson drone on. He always managed to keep her interest in their conversations, no matter _what_ the subject was, and he always stuck with topics they were both knowledgeable about to keep the discussion equal. _He_ certainly wouldn't have ranted about sports for ten minutes straight without letting her get a single word in- not that she had anything to contribute.

Catching herself thinking about _him_, Nyota swore mentally and straightened in her chair in an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts.

_Tonight is NOT about Spock_, she told herself angrily. _Stop thinking about him!_

Returning her attention to the man before her, she noted that Everson was no longer talking about sports. Instead, he was talking about the Enterprise. Relieved to be on an even ground at last, she leaned toward him, determined to force Spock out of her mind.

"I hear she's going to break all sorts of records," Everson said. "Warp speed, size, ammunition storage- they're going all-out with the Enterprise. She's going to be a real beauty."

"The communications system is state-of-the-art," Nyota said, filled with the familiar excitement she always felt when talking about her dream ship. "The subspace range is incredible."

"And the shields are twice as powerful as those on current Constellation-class starships," Everson continued enthusiastically, as if he hadn't even heard her.

With a tiny sigh, Nyota leaned back again. He sounded more like a ten-year-old boy enthusing about his first hover-bike than a fully grown adult. She was trying to decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing when the waitress came with their orders.

"Here's the _barkaya marak_ for you," she said, placing a steaming bowl of soup in front of Nyota. "And the Bajoran _veklava_ for you," she added with a smile at Everson as she set another dish down before him.

"Thank you," Everson said, flashing her a smile.

The waitress' smile widened. "Anything else?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave, eyes riveted on Everson.

"No, thanks," he replied.

Nyota watched with irritation as Everson's eyes followed the girl's rear as she walked away. And, she found that while she _should_ be irritated by the fact her date was checking out another woman... the source of her frustration was not the action itself, but the thought it triggered in her mind.

_Spock would never have done that_, she remarked to herself. It would have been rude- and illogical, since he already had a date and had no need to look for another one.

"_Barkaya marak_, huh?" Everson asked obliviously, pointing at the bowl before her. "I've never tried Vulcan cuisine."

Nyota looked down at the pale green soup. She had never tried Vulcan cuisine either, but Spock had once told her about _barkaya marak_, and when she'd seen it on the menu she decided to try it.

Realizing that she was again thinking about _him_, Nyota picked up her spoon. Gripping it harder than was necessary, she dipped it into the contents of the bowl.

"It's supposed to taste like creamed spinach," she said, shoving all thoughts of Spock away. Bringing the spoon up to her lips, she tasted the soup. The description was certainly accurate- and although she did not usually like spinach, she quickly found that she liked it. Spock had said it was dish he himself was partial to....

Judging by the look of disgust on Everson's face, the soup didn't appeal to him at all. He didn't mention it again as he started on his own dinner and changed the subject.

Nyota wasn't quite sure how she managed to get through the rest of dinner. Later, she would only remember a vague impression of the music playing in the background as she nodded and agreed with whatever Everson said, her mind drifting in and out of focus. She watched the band onstage play various popular songs from all over the galaxy, the conversation in alien languages pressing in on her from all sides. Listening to the various dialects was an interesting way to pass the time as she picked out which languages she knew and observed the precise enunciation of the native speaker's words.

And on occasion, her mind settled briefly on the one person she _didn't_ want to think about....

She found that, although bored, she didn't mind not having to participate in the conversation. She had nothing to say, and no real desire to contribute. When she did speak, it was usually to give a reply to a question or to insert a "that's interesting" or a "go on."

When dinner was finally over and they were back in the hover-car, Nyota was startled to find that only an hour and a half had passed. The time spent in the Blue Galaxy had seemed much longer than that.

"Shall we go somewhere else next?" asked Everson, who seemed unaware of the fact that his companion was not really enthusiastic about their date.

"Oh, I really can't stay out late tonight," Nyota said quickly. "I have studying to do this weekend for simulation tests."

"Well, then maybe we should cut the evening short." Everson smiled over at her. "I wouldn't want your grades to slip because of me."

Relief swept through her, quickly followed by guilt. She had never been very interested in the date from the beginning- Gaila had been spot-on about that. But her complete lack of interest, despite what were obviously Everson's best efforts, made her regret accepting his offer.

A question crept forward from the depths of her mind; if it had been _Spock_ sitting across from her in the restaurant... would things have been different?

Refusing to allow herself an answer to the question- although part of her already knew it- Nyota glanced over at Everson. His eyes were trained on the road before him, the hover-car humming smoothly as it took them back to the academy. The silence now between them only magnified Gaila's words as they now began to echo in her mind; _"...I know you'll realize I'm right- that this date is a bad idea. You're going for all the wrong reasons...."_

Averting her gaze away from Everson to the window, she saw that they had arrived at their destination. With another wave of relief, she spotted her dorm building.

"I'll walk you up," Everson said as he parked on the street across from the building.

"I really don't need you to-" Nyota began to protest, but he cut her off.

"I insist. Really."

His smiled at her again, and she sighed in defeat. They got out of the hover-car and he fell in beside her, leading her across the expanse of grass stretching before the dorm. The only sounds were only of grass crunching underfoot as they walked, Nyota's arms wrapped around herself even though it was a warm night.

When they began to mount the steps leading up to the entrance, Everson finally spoke.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked.

Nyota hesitated before replying. She didn't want to hurt his feelings- he'd obviously wanted her to have a pleasant date....

"I had a nice time," she lied, forcing herself to smile as she stopped in front of the doors and turned to face him. "Thank you for dinner."

"It was no trouble," he said, shrugging.

There was a pause, during which Nyota shifted her weight from one foot to another and watched Everson through lowered eyelashes, her arms tightening around her middle. Silver light filtered through the wispy clouds drifting over the moon, casting just enough to illuminate their features.

He stood three feet away, his tall form casting a shadow over her as he looked down at her without a word. Looking up at him, she was suddenly struck with the realization that he reminded her a bit of Spock; tall, lean frame, dark hair and eyes... she hadn't noticed before because he was usually smiling or talking animatedly. But now that he looked at her so seriously... there was a definite resemblance.

She was so caught up in memories of Spock- of standing before him that night on the quad as the pollen began to take effect, of lying beside him on his bed- that she didn't even realize Everson had moved forward until he bent over her, capturing her lips with his.

Stunned, Nyota did not react at first. But then she felt herself relax, allowing his lips to move against hers- lips that were not warm enough, were too clumsy and wet. The hand resting on the nape of her neck- too cool. The body heat radiating from him not nearly as warm and comforting as....

As an image of Spock flew through her mind's eye, Nyota abruptly pulled away. Lowering her head to avoid Everson's gaze, she bit her lip and took a deep breath.

She had been so caught up in her memories of Spock she'd almost forgotten who she was kissing. And she was quickly realizing Everson was _not_ who she wanted to kiss.

"Sorry. Too soon?" he asked gently.

Still not looking up, Nyota nodded her head and swallowed hard. Guilt zinged through her; for the most part, Everson had been great to her... kind and gentle, although a bit too talkative and he _had_ allowed his eye to wander... but somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to like him in _that_ way.

Everson said good night, settling for a squeeze of her arm and another smile. She watched him return to his hover-car, still hugging her arms around herself. When the taillights had disappeared around a campus building, she finally turned to head inside, Gaila's words again resounding within her.

She hated it when Gaila was right.

* * *

The living room was dark, the only source of light a soft glow filtering through the window, emanating from lampposts outside. Silence hung heavily in the air, nothing moving in the shadows of the room.

But the quarters were not empty. Silhouetted in the window, arms folded over his chest, stood a dark figure.

When Spock had awakened that morning, uneasiness had settled in his chest. Despite an attempt at meditation to rid himself of the odd feeling, it had only grown as the day wore on. As evening came and the sun sank below the horizon, he'd found himself setting aside his work on the coffee table and assuming his current position at the window. He had not moved from his vigil in over an hour, his eyes trained on a building across the quad.

Spock had no explanation for this behavior. Not a logical one, anyway.

After the conversation with his mother the evening before, he'd found himself longing to see Nyota again. He did not know what he wished to say to her, but something told him that if he saw her again he would know. There was just one problem....

His jaw clenched. He knew where she was at that very moment, and the thought of it ignited a glowing ember of anger within him. Anger directed at Everson for stealing his mate; anger at himself for standing idly by and allowing it to happen. Anger at T'Pring because she existed and stood in his way...

As he surveyed the dark grounds, not moving a muscle, questions of what might be happening on this "date" ran through his mind, each worse than the last. Was she enjoying her time with Everson? Was she wearing inappropriate attire, such as what she had worn to the bar? Had she forgotten all about _him_?

And the one that bothered him the most: would she sleep with the human?

He _must_ see her. He must ensure she still thought of him... that she would not make a mistake she would later regret. But he had no choice; he must wait until he saw her again by chance.

For the first time in over an hour, Spock moved. Lowering his arms to his sides, he turned from the window and began to do a very human thing: he began to pace.

From the window to the coffee table he paced, hands now clasped behind his back as his eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at the pattern of light and shadows scattered across the carpeted floor. He could not simply walk over to Nyota's dorm and demand to speak to her; surely she would ask why he was there, and he still did not know what he wished to say to her. Suppose he went to her, and then could not find words to explain himself? But... there was no knowing when he would see her again, now that she no longer worked with him.

At the thought of her replacement, the corners of his mouth twitched down in a frown. Rivers was incompetent, there was no doubt about that; Nyota outstripped him in every way.

Stopping suddenly in the center of the living room, he pondered this. Perhaps he could convince Nyota to take their shift again? Surely someone else could trade with Rivers, and Nyota was a far more suitable working companion for Spock than anyone else.

Before he even had the chance to decide, Spock found himself walking towards the door. If she was not yet back from her social appointment, he would wait for her outside her dorm. This was important; if he continued to work with Rivers, surely his own performance would suffer, and the lab would suffer as a result. Nyota _must_ return to their shift as soon as possible....

And he must also ensure she returned home safely- and alone.

Exiting his apartment building, Spock made his way across the grassy quad towards the building he had watched for the past hour. It was not far from his quarters, only a seven- point-two minute walk, and soon he was stepping onto the brick pathway that led up to Nyota's building.

He stopped short when he saw two figures emerge from a hover-car parked across from the dorm. The cadence of a pair of high-heeled boots striking the pavement was familiar to him, and he knew immediately who it was.

Spock was within sight of the dorm entrance, the deep shadows cast by the trees lining the walk concealing him from view. He watched as Nyota and Everson climbed the steps and paused in the doorway, the human male murmuring to Nyota.

"Did you have a good time?"

He watched coolly as Everson smiled down at _his_ mate. With growing impatience, Spock heard her reply to his query; "I had a nice time. Thank you for dinner."

"It was no trouble," Everson said with a shrug.

There was a pause during which the humans simply looked at each other. Then, without warning, Everson leaned forward....

Fury, possessiveness, and white-hot hatred roared through Spock as he witnessed Everson kiss HIS mate. His hands balled up into fists, nostrils flaring and eyes darkening as he watched the scene before him; the only thing preventing him from going over and ripping Everson apart limb from limb was the thought of what Nyota would think of such an action.

After several seconds, Nyota pulled away from the despicable Everson, but the ending of the kiss did not alleviate the emotions thundering through Spock. He watched numbly as Everson said his goodbyes and left, Nyota waiting until the hover-car was out of sight before turning to go inside.

All thoughts of speaking to her about their shift had fled his mind, and he did not pursue her as planned. As soon as she was out of sight, he raised one clenched fist- slamming it into the trunk of a nearby tree. The sound of cracking wood rent the air, fine particles of crushed bark raining down. Searing pain shot up his hand, accompanied by the warm wetness of blood, but he was only dimly aware of it as he stared at the doors through which his mate had disappeared.

Knowing there was a possibility of intimate contact between Nyota and Everson had been disturbing enough, but this was much, _much_ worse. To see _his_ Nyota's lips against those of someone who was not him....

Sensing the dark, tumultuous emotion returning, Spock turned away from the dorm. He required intensive meditation; anything else must wait until he was under control.

Attempting to banish the image of the humans from his mind, he quickly crossed the quad again. But try as he might, he kept seeing Everson leaning forward, lips touching Nyota's... and Nyota not pulling back for at least five-point-seven seconds.

A sense of betrayal ran through him; she had allowed him to kiss her. Perhaps she had even enjoyed it....

By the time he entered his quarters, his fury was outwardly evident- and for once, he did not care. With quick, agitated movements he removed his shirt and shoes, his voice as dark as his temper when he commanded the lights to turn on. Entering his bedroom, he went immediately to the meditation mat.

Settling down, he took several deep breaths. It worked well enough to soothe his features back into calmness, but inside he still raged. He was sure it would take several hours of meditation to recenter himself.

Still breathing deeply, Spock called forth the events of the past few days. He struggled to see the situation with logic- to apply rationale where he knew there was none. His mother's visit, the date, the kiss... surely there was a way to make sense of it all and still maintain his composure. It was imperative that he reach a logical conclusion in the matter pertaining to Nyota.

But he knew this was no longer a situation that could be dealt with in logic. The time for logical decisions was long past.

If he had lost Nyota this night, it would be through his own doing, through his own blindness and lack of regard for his own feelings as well as for hers. But deep down in his _katra_, he knew he had not yet lost her. His mother had said humans did not always take dating seriously... surely it was the same for kissing.

Pike had understood that it was cowardice keeping Spock from what he wanted. His own mother had encouraged him to make his own decision- had given him every excuse and validation he needed for it, if only he would accept her advice....

Perhaps it _was_ time to make a decision for himself.

He did not know how he would accomplish it. He knew his father would be furious; he would undermine the traditions of his father's people and offend his clan with his disobedience.

He knew he would face ramifications. But he would rid himself of T'Pring- and Nyota would be his.


	16. The Transmission

**A/N: Getting close to the end of the story here, I'm thinking four chapters after this....**

**Chapter 16: The Transmission**

Nyota avoided Everson as much as possible over the next four days. It may not have been the kindest and most mature thing to do, but she couldn't bear to face him after their disastrous date -- especially since he seemed convinced it had gone well.

He called her dorm no less than five times. Every time the comm console chimed, Nyota made Gaila answer it and hid out of sight to listen as Everson expressed his latest disappointment that he had, once again, called while Nyota was out.

She hadn't told Gaila how the date had gone. When she asked the next day how it went, Nyota had only shrugged and leaned closer to her PADD screen in an attempt to appear busy -- but the silence was answer enough. Gaila knew she'd been right. But -- unusually for her -- she didn't brag about it, settling instead for smug smirks and knowing glances as she told Everson to call again later.

But, she knew she couldn't avoid him forever, and when she approached Ripley's lab on Wednesday to find him waiting in the corridor for her, she knew she had no choice but to confront him.

He had not seen her coming. He was reading the notes written on a board outside the lab doors, casually leaning against the wall. Pausing at the end of the hallway leading to the lab entrance, Nyota took a deep breath and let it out, squaring her shoulders before resuming her stride, heeled boots clicking against the tiled floor to announce her arrival.

Everson looked up at the sound, face lighting up as his eyes landed on her. "Hey," he said cheerfully.

"Hi," Nyota replied, forcing a smile onto her face.

"I kept trying to call you, but your roommate said you were out," he said apologetically.

"Sorry about that, but I'm assisting in the Kobayashi Maru tomorrow and needed to study for the simulation," Nyota replied.

It wasn't a lie -- she really was assisting in the simulation -- but she hardly needed to study for it. The Kobayashi Maru was intended to test students against the unknown -- Spock, who had designed the program himself, had confided to her during one of their shifts that the students were wasting their time studying for it.

But Everson didn't know that, and she wasn't going to tell him.

"Of course. Studies are important," he said, nodding his head. Then he grinned again. "So... do you want to go out again this Friday? It'll be our last chance before we have to start studying for exams."

"Oh... um..." Nyota cleared her throat, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "About that...."

"We could wait until after exams," Everson assured her.

Looking up into his hopeful brown eyes -- not as dark and mysterious as Spock's -- she found that what she wanted to say next stuck in her throat. Everson had been good to her, for the most part... and he seemed to genuinely like her. How could she let him down?

But despite the guilt she felt, she took another deep breath before speaking.

"Listen...." she said, her voice low as she glanced around to ensure they were alone. "Everson... Eric... I don't know if we should."

"Why not?" asked. The question wasn't accusatory, but curious.

"I... don't think I'm in a position to start any sort of relationship with you," she explained.

"Is it because we might be assigned to different starships?" he asked. "Because -- just to let you know -- I've heard from an officer friend of mine that I've been put down for the Enterprise. I know _you_ want the Enterprise -- and of course, everything you want, you get."

He smiled charmingly at her again, but it didn't soften her resolve.

"That's not it," she said slowly.

"Did you not enjoy last Friday?" he asked, smile fading slightly.

"Of course I did. I had a nice time," she lied. Turning him down was difficult enough -- telling him that she'd been bored to the point of tears during their date certainly wouldn't help him feel better.

"Oh, I get it." Everson grinned again. "Now you're going to give me the ancient, 'it's not you, it's me' bit, right?"

"It would be the truth."

"Then what is it -- there's someone else?" he asked.

Nyota shifted her strap again, eyes sliding away from Everson's. When she didn't reply, he shook his head, his smile now disbelieving.

"Then why did you even bother?" he asked, a hint of exasperation and what may have been resentment in his tone.

"I was trying to move on, but I guess I wasn't ready," Nyota replied with a sad smile .

Everson stared down at her for a moment, face blank. Then, suddenly, he was smiling again.

"I get it. It's fine," he said, but his smile seemed more strained now as he backed slowly away from her down the hall. "Good luck with... everything."

"Thanks," Nyota said slowly, eyeing him cautiously.

He shrugged, then smiled again at her. "If you ever change your mind... I'll be available."

Surprised, she smiled -- truly smiled -- at him for the first time.

"Maybe," Nyota said, but even as she said it, she knew she never would.

Everson waved at her half-heartedly before continuing down the hall away from her. Nyota waited until he had turned the corner before sighing deeply, her shoulders sagging under the combined weight of her bag and her intense relief at finally being rid of him.

_That wasn't so bad_, she thought to herself as she entered the lab,_ he took it better than I thought he would._

Feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, but also a tiny pang of residual guilt, Nyota nodded and smiled at the cadet she was relieving from duty. After clocking in and assuming her position at her station, she fitted an earpiece into her ear and began to check the relays for incoming signals.

Night shift was short-handed, so she had volunteered to work a double shift. While she didn't look forward to the long hours, the work itself was calming and allowed her something to keep her mind busy, instead of pondering on her sordid love life. She usually liked working alone, but tonight, as she settled in for a long night of monitoring, she missed the conversations she used to have with Spock. They would have made the shift go by quicker.

She'd been at her console for quite some time when she decided to scan a few distant solar systems for signals. It was rare to come across anything that far out, as it was mostly uninhabited planets and space debris -- so when she heard the first faint crackle of a transmission, she frowned and leaned closer to the screen. Noting the coordinates, her eyebrows rose high and she adjusted her controls to fine-tune the reception. But, because of the long distance and poor quality of the signal, the message was still garbled and full of static.

As she listened to the rough, guttural language that was uneasily familiar to her, her eyes widened slowly. When the recording was finished, she replayed it -- and replayed it again to make sure she had heard right.

When the lab doors abruptly slid open with a hiss, Nyota jumped slightly in her chair. Looking around, she spotted Ripley coming towards her and quickly stood at attention.

"Sir," she said after he nodded at her in greeting. "You wouldn't believe --"

"At ease, Uhura," Ripley said. "Fortunately for you, I don't have anything better to do tonight, but I'm sure you do. You can go ahead and clock out, I'm doing night shift."

"Commander Ripley, I just received an emergency transmission from a Klingon prison planet, and --"

"A Klingon prison planet?" Ripley repeated distractedly as he sat at his own console. "I'll take a look at it later. But don't worry about it, Uhura, it's probably nothing."

"But, sir, forty-seven ships were annihilated," she continued desperately,"and according to the message, it was a Romulan ship --"

"It's none of our concern, Cadet." Ripley shrugged. "So what, a few Klingon ships were destroyed by Romulan forces. It's well beyond the Neutral zone, and our control. Starfleet couldn't do anything even if they wanted to. Don't concern yourself with it, okay?"

Nyota pressed her lips together in irritation, but nodded at her superior. While Ripley didn't seem convinced, a strange churning in the pit of her stomach told her this was not something to be ignored. Forty-seven ships... what sort of weapon could wreak such havoc, and why didn't the Federation know about it? Why wouldn't it _want_ to know about it?

She knew someone who would listen to her. Who wouldn't dismiss her concerns -- who might even share them. And if he didn't, he would give her every logical reason not to worry....

It was 2000 on a Wednesday evening, but Spock often worked late in his office during the week, and that was the direction Nyota headed in as soon as she exited the lab doors. Her steps were light and quick as she walked as fast as she could without actually running, her long hair rippling around her shoulders as she rushed along. She was _sure_ she had something, and she was bursting to tell Spock. He would know what to make of this, and instruct her on how to proceed.

Soon, out of breath, Nyota stood before Spock's closed office door. Raising her hand, she pressed the chime -- hoping he was there and not at his quarters....

"Enter," came the familiar voice from within. With a sigh of relief, Nyota pressed another button to open the door. She stepped inside hurriedly and let it slide shut behind her.

"Cadet Uhura," Spock said, blinking once in surprise before standing quickly from his seat, rearranging a stack of PADDs on his desk as he looked away from her. "This is... unexpected."

"I hope I'm not interrupting, sir," she said, "but there's something I want to tell you about."

"It is no inconvenience," Spock assured her as he aligned the last stack of PADDs and finally met her gaze again. "In fact, there is a matter I must discuss with you, as well."

Intrigued, Nyota felt her own eyebrows rise. "Go ahead, sir," she prompted -- curious as to what he would want to discuss with _her_.

Spock stepped around his desk so there was nothing between them but three feet of air. He appeared slightly uncomfortable as he began to speak.

"I am aware of why you switched shifts. However, I believe you should return to our previous schedule."

Nyota stared at him, stunned, for several long seconds before finally blinking and clearing her throat.

"And why would that be, Commander?" she asked.

"You are the cadet most qualified to operate a shift with me," he replied simply. "You possess an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmission tests. I found, while working with your replacement, that no other cadet meets the high standards you have established. It is... distracting, for me to monitor my station when my colleague is incompetent."

Nyota felt a smile twitch at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him. "Is that _really_ why you want me back on your shift?" she asked.

Spock tilted his head slightly to the side. "I assure you that it is, Cadet."

But the way his eyes softened as he looked at her told the unspoken truth. She was no expert at "reading" Spock -- but she somehow knew he had missed her.

Stepping closer, she looked up at him seriously. "Is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The rational part of her brain -- the part that insisted she move on -- screamed at her to step away, to abort the mission and leave the office. She was only making things worse -- for her, and for him.

But she didn't. She couldn't. She was captivated by the dark brown eyes that were smoldering with an unintelligible emotion, her feet rooted to the spot.

"I understand if you believe you cannot, for any reason, return to our shift," he said quietly. "I know you have... other pursuits."

There was something meaningful in his gaze as he looked at her, and it took a moment for Nyota to realize what he meant.

"Pursuits?" she asked confusedly. "You mean -- Everson?"

At the mention of the name, something dark flashed through Spock's eyes, his features suddenly sterner than before as he drew away from her and went back around his desk.

"I know little of your relationship with Cadet Everson," he said stonily, "nor should it be any of my concern. But yes, that is what I meant, Cadet."

All thoughts of Klingon prison planets flew from her mind as Nyota stared at Spock in wonder. Was he... _jealous_?

"Spock -- Commander," she amended, but he didn't seem fazed by her use of his name as he began to pack away the piles of student PADDs he had to grade, no longer looking at her. "Everson and I... well, that's not going to happen. We have no relationship. Nor will we ever."

Spock paused midway through placing a PADD in his case. Then he slowly lowered it inside and set the case on his chair.

"That is..." He stopped, as if catching himself. "That is your choice," he finished.

"Spock..." The name came from her lips in a sigh as she stepped around his desk to stand before him again. "Everson is just a friend to me. I don't... _feel_ anything in particular for him. We're not going out again."

When his eyes met hers again, she tried her hardest to convey without words what she was thinking -- that she didn't think she'd ever feel about anyone the way she did about _him_.

She didn't know if she was successful or not, but he held her gaze for several long seconds before speaking again, his voice almost a whisper.

"That is your choice," he repeated, but the unnamed emotion was back -- his gaze searing her as she stepped even closer. She saw his shoulders stiffen slightly at this intrusion of his private space, but he did not ask her to back away. He towered over her, his body heat engulfing her as she inclined her head to look up at him.

"It was the right one," she agreed. "I don't regret it."

His eyes scanned her features, searching, searching... but searching for what, Nyota didn't know. Silence stretched on between them as they continued to communicate without words, so close to each other that she felt his warm breath against her cheek. His eyes promised her what she had told herself she could not have, and although she believed she was only fooling herself -- setting herself up for more pain -- hope filled her.

And it was this same naive hope that made her not pull away when Spock finally leaned forward.

His lips brushed softly against hers at first -- hesitant, seeking permission. Nyota's eyelids fluttered closed as she returned his gentle pressure, her breath ghosting against his lips as she sighed in relief. It had been seemingly forever since she last kissed him, and even then they had been under the influence of a drug; it had not been entirely of their own volition.

But this time was different.

His arms were around her, pulling her against him as, encouraged by her reaction, he deepened the kiss. The taste of him was familiar, the press of his lips against hers so _right_. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she breathed in his clean, masculine scent, his heat seeping into her, kindling a fire deep within that only grew in intensity as the kiss lingered on.

Without warning, Spock's hold on her tightened. He lifted her, placing her on his desk without breaking their embrace. Her mind was blurred -- her body ignited -- as his hands slid beneath her skirt to grip her hips. His touch was warm and firm as she felt his desire through the contact link; it flowed through her, mixing with and intensifying her own hunger as his intentions became clear. He pulled her flush against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, her limbs now wrapped around him --

And then the door chimed.

They froze, reason returning to them both with an unpleasant bump: they were in Spock's office. In uniform. Nyota was sitting on his desk, skirt riding up to reveal her underwear. One Starfleet officer, one soon-to-be officer -- breaking every fraternization rule in the book.

Spock quickly pulled away from her, tugging at the bottom of his shirt as she slid off the desk and smoothed down her skirt, heart hammering in her chest. She was grateful things had not gone too far -- but part of her was furious at whoever had interrupted them.

Spock's expression was unreadable as he went to the intercom unit on the wall and pressed the button.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Cadet Chang, sir... I have a question about the assignment you gave us today," said an unfamiliar male voice.

"I am in a meeting with another cadet. I will be able to see you in one moment," Spock said, and turned off the intercom.

There was a silence, Nyota taking deep breaths to calm her rapidly-beating heart. Then, with three long strides, Spock stood before her again.

"Cadet, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you," he said, voice low, "in regards to our future."

"Our future?" she asked, the feeble hope she'd felt before now bursting into full bloom as she smiled up at him.

"However, now is not an opportune time," Spock said, glancing at the door.

"We could have dinner together," Nyota suggested. "Friday night."

The corners of his lips quirked up. "I am amenable to dining with you."

Nyota fought back the urge to kiss him again as she stepped past him toward the door. With one last radiant smile, she exited his office, walking past the waiting cadet outside.

It wasn't until she reached the end of the hall that she realized she had forgotten to tell him about the Klingon transmission.

* * *

When she entered her dorm ten minutes later, Nyota decided it would be best to appear as normal as possible. She didn't look forward to what Gaila would say when she found out about what had just happened, which she knew would happen eventually-- but she had every intention of delaying it. Staring intently at a PADD in her hand, she rounded the partition that separated the entry hall from hers and Gaila's beds.

"Hey," Nyota said, looking up from her PADD as she spotted her roommate reclining on a bed.

"Hey!" Gaila replied with a wide smile. The Orion was laying on her side, wearing only her underwear. Nyota also noted that she was breathing rather heavily, but decided she didn't even _want_ to know what she had walked in on.

"How are you?" she asked as she set her bag on her bed.

"Good!" Gaila replied tightly.

Nyota cast a suspicious look at her friend before sitting down and starting to remove her boots.

"Strangest thing..." she said, pushing away thoughts of Spock and focusing on her original source of excitement. "I was in the long-range sensor lab...."

"Yeah, I -- I thought all night," Gaila said.

Nyota continued as if her friend hadn't spoken, now beginning to remove her uniform sweater. "I was tracking solar systems and... picked up an emergency transmission."

"Really," Gaila said unenthusiastically.

"Yeah!" Nyota stood and removed her sweater. "From the Klingon prison planet," she continued, now taking off her skirt.

"Oh, no," the Orion replied, sounding less than interested, but Nyota didn't notice -- she was putting every effort into appearing normal.

"Yeah. A Klingon armada was destroyed. Forty-seven ships."

"So... you're not going back to the lab tonight?" Gaila asked, voice rising slightly at the end.

Nyota froze as Gaila fell silent and she heard a sound. It was faint, barely audible, but unmistakable when she recognized it. And it fit perfectly with Gaila's odd behavior.

Slowly straightening, hands on her hips, she turned to her friend.

"Gaila, who is he?" she asked, half-amused, half-annoyed.

"Who's who?" Gaila asked innocently.

"The mouth-breather hiding under your bed," Nyota replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

As if on cue, a half-naked figure came out from underneath the bed. "You can hear me _breathing_?" he asked incredulously.

"_You_!" Nyota said angrily as she recognized him. Great -- just what she needed to ruin a perfectly happy evening. Jim Kirk in her dorm room.

"Big day tomorrow," Kirk said, quickly diving to gather up his clothes.

Knowing that the idiot meant he was taking the Kobayashi Maru -- again -- Nyota bent down and picked up his pants, tossing them at him forcefully.

"You're gonna fail!" she declared.

"Gaila, see you around," Kirk said as he passed the Orion on his way to the door.

"Yep," Gaila called after him.

"Get out!" Nyota snapped, ushering him to the door.

"If I pass, will you tell me your first name?" he asked, looking back at her.

"No! Good night!" Nyota replied exasperatedly.

"I think the fact that you picked up a transmission is very interesting --" he continued as he stepped through the doorway and turned to face her.

Nyota pressed the button, the door hissing shut to muffle the rest of Kirk's reply.

When she returned to the sleeping area, Gaila was sitting up on her bed, looking sheepish.

"I thought you promised me you wouldn't bring any more guys here, Gaila?" Nyota asked, shaking her head.

"Sorry." Gaila winced. "But you were _supposed_ to be gone all night...."

"And I'm _not_ gone all night, am I?" Nyota asked with a sigh. "Gaila, Jim Kirk is an arrogant pig. He's slept with half the girls on campus. Do you _really_ want anything to do with him?"

Gaila shrugged. "He's a good lay. Well, a _decent_ lay... definitely not the best I've had." She sighed heavily before continuing, in a smug tone, "Besides, _you_ introduced us."

"A mistake I regret already," Nyota muttered as she turned to her closet to get out her pajamas.

"_You_ don't have any right to talk about who _I_ should be with, anyway," Gaila said. "You won't even _try_ to get the Commander back, and I _know_ you want him."

The silk pajama shorts Nyota had been holding slid out of her hands to pool on the floor. Quickly bending to pick it up, she let her loose hair fall in a sheet over her face to hide the smirk that crossed her lips.

But somehow Gaila saw it. When Nyota straightened, her roommate's eyes were wide as they fixed on her.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"I don't know what you mean," Nyota replied innocently.

"You smiled! I saw it!" Gaila said, now standing and coming over to her. "And -- I can smell him on you!"

_Damn Gaila's Orion sense of smell_, Nyota thought to herself.

"Well... _something_ happened." She found it impossible to hide her smile now, as she began to dress in her pajamas. "I went to Spock's office to tell him about the transmission, and... well, we kissed."

"Is that all?" Gaila asked disappointedly. "No hot sex on the Commander's desk? No breaking rules by doing it in a Starfleet office with your uniforms on?"

Nyota felt heat flood her face. If that cadet hadn't interrupted... she was sure that was exactly where things would have headed.

"Oh, gods! You _did_?" Gaila asked in disbelief when she saw her face.

"No!" Nyota quickly assured her. "We didn't."

"But something _else_ happened?" she urged.

Deciding not to tell about the almost-hot-sex-on-the-desk, Nyota replied; "He said he wants to talk to me."

"Talk to you." Gaila stared at her blankly. "About what?"

"He said he wants to talk about our future," Nyota replied smilingly. "Gaila... I think he might have finally come to his senses."

"Yes! I _knew_ it!" Gaila shrieked, seizing Nyota's arms and squeezing painfully. "See? I _told_ you it would work out if you just _try_!"

As Gaila began her usual "I told you so" and "about time" routine, Nyota laid down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She was at peace with the world, a smile curving her lips -- she didn't even mind Gaila's rambling.

She wasn't sure what had changed Spock's mind, but she would be eternally grateful for it.


	17. Comfort

**A/N: I'm pretty much skipping the movie events here... we've already seen all that, I doubt you need a recap. :)**

**Three chapters left!**

**Chapter 17: Comfort**

The corridor was empty, silent; the only sounds those of Nyota's boots striking the floor. Each step brought her closer to her destination, to the door waiting for her at the end of the long hall -- to the confrontation she dreaded, but knew must happen. She knew he needed her, even if the words would never fall from his lips....

It was, she reflected, a cruel irony that life could be turned upside down in a matter of hours. Had it really only been _hours_ since she sat in the auditorium, watching the debate between Kirk and Spock over the Kobayashi Maru? Hours since she was secure in the knowledge that she and Spock would have dinner that night -- that nothing would come between them, and all was right with the world? Only hours since she was happy and carefree, her only concern what she would wear on their date?

When the distress call came, none of them could have possibly known what they were heading into, the tragedy that awaited them. Fear of the unknown: that was Spock's premise for the Kobayashi Maru, and that had been exactly what they faced on Vulcan and, later, in orbit around Earth.

_**Fear**_. An emotion she had experienced too many times in the past twelve hours. Fear -- what she had felt while Vulcan was breaking up down below and Spock insisted on beaming down....

_ "Alert Vulcan Command Center to signal a planet-wide evacuation -- all channels, all frequencies. Maintain standard orbit," Spock ordered as he passed her on his way to the turbolift. Although she knew he was trying to hide it, she saw the flash of fear and concern in his eyes -- heard the faintest inflections of urgency in his tone._

_ "Spock -- wait! Where are _you_ going?" she called after him as he stepped into the lift. She knew she shouldn't have left her station -- shouldn't have dared ask the acting Captain his motives -- but at that moment, she had not cared._

_ "To evacuate the Vulcan High Council. They are tasked with protecting our cultural history, and my parents will be among them." He said it calmly, evenly -- but Nyota knew he was anything but calm._

_ "Can't you beam them out?" she asked, cold fear spiking through her... there _must_ be another way...._

_ "It is impossible. They would be in the katric arc. I must get them myself." He tore his eyes away from hers, looking over her shoulder at the tactical station. "Chekov, you have the conn."_

_ She stood at the doors for a moment, even after they had already slid shut -- struggling to repress the fear that was rising within her at the thought of what might happen to him on that planet...._

_ **Heartbreak**_. That was what she'd felt later, once it was too late; when Spock's world was obliterated, all that he knew of "home" gone, his pain so deep it was unimaginable to her. It was what she'd felt as she watched him leave the command chair and enter that same lift, and what she felt as she followed him.

_His eyes, dark and full of pain, watched her as she entered the lift behind him and pressed the button to close the doors. He could have stopped her -- ordered her back to her station -- but he did not. He only gazed down at her silently, his face a perfectly blank mask. _

_ Someone else would have thought he felt nothing, but Nyota was not someone else. And right now, she was not Lieutenant Uhura, and he was not Commander Spock. _

_ Her throat felt constricted, her heart heavy in her chest as she leaned over to press another button. The lift glided to a stop in between decks, and without the hum of the machinery, the silence was deafening._

_ "I'm sorry," she whispered, struggling to rein in her own sorrow. She didn't know what she was apologizing for -- maybe she thought it would alleviate her own guilt. Her guilt at not telling someone about the transmission sooner... if she had, maybe...._

_ "I'm sorry," she repeated, raising her hands to his face, his skin warm and smooth beneath her touch. "I'm so sorry," she said again, almost choking on her words as she stood on tiptoe to tenderly press her lips against his. She trailed kisses along his cheek, his jaw, until her face was pressed against his neck, her arms around him._

_ He did not respond right away, did not return her embrace -- as if afraid to hold her too close, afraid to let her in. Afraid to let her feel his pain, to share it -- to bare himself to her._

_ But then, she felt his arms around her, pulling her closer as he buried his face in her shoulder. It was a surrender. A testimony of his trust in her. A tiny window into his soul, opening only for her...._

_ "What do you need? Tell me," she whispered against his neck before pulling away to look into his eyes again. "Tell me."_

_ There was a long pause, his eyes searching hers. And then he reached over to press a button, resuming the lift before turning back to her, his voice soft as he replied; "I need everyone... to continue performing admirably."_

_ She looked up at him, nodding in agreement even as she held back her tears. He was hurting -- she could feel his agony through the contact link, threading into her and making her heart ache. But until their mission -- whatever it had become -- was complete, they would have to go on. They must persevere. The time for mourning -- for comforting, for pausing to reflect on all that had been lost -- would come later. For now, duty called._

_ "Okay," she replied, so quietly it was almost inaudible. Then she leaned forward, kissing him again. Unlike before, she felt his lips yield against hers, responding to the caress as she kissed him again, and then again. But then he pulled away, the lift doors opening as he stepped past her to walk down the corridor without another glance back._

_ **Terror**_. That was what she had felt as she stood on the transporter pad before him hours later. Terror -- what she felt as she knew what he was about to attempt on the Narada....

_His hands were warm as they rested on her hips, his lips soft against hers. She didn't care if they were seen, and she knew he didn't either. The time for caring about being caught had passed. He might never come back...._

_ At this thought, she finally broke their long kiss, looking down as she drew in a deep breath and struggled to keep her tears at bay. _

_ Sensing her thoughts through the contact link, he pressed his forehead against hers. _

_ "I will be back," he assured her. But even as the words -- meant to be comforting -- left his lips, she knew he had just uttered the closest thing to a lie she had ever heard him tell. He could not guarantee his survival, and they both knew it._

_ "You better be," she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she looked up at him. "I'll be monitoring your frequency."_

_ "Thank you, Nyota," he whispered back._

_ She gave him a sad smile as she placed her fingers under his chin, kissing him again. Her lips lingered against his for several long seconds -- both of them afraid to break the contact, afraid this moment would be their last together...._

_ But finally, not daring to look up at him again, she pulled away and turned to step off the transporter pad. Glaring at Kirk in a challenge to bring them both back safely, she knew that the man -- the **Vulcan** -- she now knew she loved, might not come back from this mission..._

But he had. Defying all odds, he and Kirk had saved Earth -- destroyed the Narada -- and lived.

Yet it was not over. There was still damage, still personal losses to heal from. Vulcan had not been brought back with the death of Nero, nor had Spock's mother. They were gone, consigned to nonexistence -- billions of people dead, an ancient culture all but destroyed. There would be no bringing them back.

But while she could not change any of that, perhaps there was still something she could do.

After their escape, and despite his first officer's refusals, Kirk had ordered Spock to his quarters. She hadn't seen him in three hours, but now that her shift was over....

She stopped before his door, hesitating for only a second before pressing the chime.

He would never say it, but he needed her.

* * *

Spock did not know how long he had been laying in meditation on his bed when the door chimed. Slowly sitting up and bringing himself out of his deep trance, he commanded it to open.

He knew who it was even before she appeared. He did not know _how_ he knew, but he did. And after having spent hours alone with his thoughts -- each silent moment stretching forever, making the gaping chasm within him seem to grow with every passing second -- her presence was welcome, even a relief.

"Spock?" Her voice was soft, cautious, as she entered the room.

He moved to place his feet on the floor, hands gripping the edges of the bed as he looked down. "Nyota," he acknowledged.

There was a pause, and then; "The bridge is a mess. Kirk is barely keeping up with post-crisis procedures, but he's handling it. Starfleet Command is trying to figure out what exactly happened, but most of _us_ don't even know. Communications between the ship and base have been almost nonstop for the last several hours, but it's finally calmed down." When he didn't reply after a few long seconds, she added, "I... I heard Commander Ripley is going to be court-martialed for not investigating the Klingon transmission and for not telling his superiors about it."

"Even if he had told them, I doubt Starfleet would have acted in time to prevent..." Spock faltered, unable to finish his sentence. There was a silence, and then Nyota spoke again.

"I think they're just trying to find someone to blame," she said.

He finally glanced up at her. She was not looking at him; her eyes were trained on the floor as one hand gripped her other arm and she bit her lip.

"Why have you come?" he asked.

She looked up at him, surprise etched onto her features. "Why have I come?" she repeated. "I'm worried about you, Spock."

"There is no need," he replied. "Nothing can be done to reverse the events of this day, and I accept that fact."

"That doesn't erase the pain," Nyota said quietly, stepping forward and sitting beside him on the bed. Her slight weight shifted the mattress, her arm pressing against his. "How are you?" she asked softly.

"I am..." Spock paused, staring down at her hand as she laid it on his arm and squeezed gently. "Lost," he confessed. "I had thought the death of Nero would end it, would..." He struggled for the right words, her brown eyes urging him to continue as they looked up at him with sympathy. "I thought it would... fill the void," he finally finished, "but it has not. I am... as lost as I was before."

"Spock..." Her voice broke and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I can't say I know how you feel, because I couldn't possibly... but please tell me what I can do. There has to be something."

"There is nothing you can do, Nyota. Only through the use of intensive meditation and --"

"Don't," she whispered, her grip tightening on his arm. "It's okay to feel this way, Spock. Don't be ashamed of it. You don't have to be Vulcan all the time... you're human, too."

Her words struck him deep, a fresh wave of pain rolling over him. They were the same words his mother had spoken to him the last time he saw her at the academy....

"I want to help you, Spock," she said, her voice sounding distant to his ears. "Please let me."

He closed his eyes, expelling a long sigh as he drew her closer to him. "My Nyota," he murmured into her hair, raising one hand to stroke the side of her face.

"Yes," she whispered back. It was a confirmation. She _was_ his.

He found the tie holding her hair back, removing it and gently smoothing the long tresses around her shoulders, twining the silky strands around his fingers. The scent of jasmine pervaded his senses, mixed with her natural aroma. He breathed it in, repeating, "My Nyota."

Spock lowered her to the bed, his body pressed along hers as he gathered her close to him. Her fingers threaded their way through his hair, her breath cool against his cheek as she sighed.

He gently kissed her, allowing himself to share his grief with her, his deep despair and the lingering anger that he could do nothing -- _had_ done nothing -- to save his mother, one of the few beings in the universe who loved him unreservedly. He had been so close... but now she was gone. His home, the place where he spent most of his life, was also gone.

All he had left was Nyota, and even now, their future was uncertain.

He felt her sigh against his lips, and with it came a flood of her own emotions. Pain, from seeing him in pain. Sympathy... even pity... for his loss. And... _guilt_.

"The fault is not yours, my _ashayam_," he breathed into her ear. "Do not blame yourself. I do not hold you responsible."

"But if I had only told someone else... another superior..." Tears shone in her eyes as she looked up at him, her hands cradling his face, fingers stroking the tips of his pointed ears.

"They, too, might have chosen to ignore it. Peace, my Nyota. Peace."

Sweeping his fingers over her temple again, he tried his best, despite his own emotional state, to soothe her. She sighed, her arms tightening around him and pulling him closer.

He kissed her again, tasting her, taking her breath from her as she exhaled. Her cheeks were damp with the tears she shed for them both as she let him undress her and undressed him in return....

Her tears gave way to silence, broken only by the sounds of soft kisses, then to sighs of pleasure and quiet murmurs of encouragement as he lost himself in her scent, in the sensation of her skin against his as he let out his pain. She took it from him, sending him comfort and love in return, a temple for his salvation. Burying his face in her hair and chanting her name, he reveled in the pure ecstasy that was _her_: body, mind, and soul....


	18. Confessions

**A/N: I know, I know. It's been a ridiculously long time since I last posted. I'm not going to make up any excuses, because I have none, but now that I'm back to writing the rest of the story should soon be posted. And for those of you who also read Unification, I hope to get back to that one soon but I want to finish this first.**

**Two chapters left!**

**Chapter 18: Confessions**

Warmth surrounded her; an unfamiliar hum filled her ears. Still in between waking and sleeping, Nyota did not immediately know where she was, only that she was not in her dorm.

But then she remembered, and when she did, she opened her eyes.

She was in Spock's quarters. Aboard the Enterprise. She had slept in his bed, had comforted him the night before. Vulcan was gone.

Nyota remembered the last time she had wakened beside Spock. This time, she only moved closer to the warm body beside her and rested her head on his chest.

"How are you?" she asked softly. "Did you sleep at all?"

"I did not sleep," he replied as he ran his fingers through her hair, "and I am neither better nor worse than before."

With a sigh, she reached up and laced her fingers through his, stopping his hand's progress through her hair and bringing it down to rest on her cheek. She did not speak, only savored the feel of his warm skin against hers and the emotions she felt from him, mingling and strengthening her own.

He did not say anything either, but buried his face in her hair and drew her closer to him. She let him hold her, enjoying the warmth that radiated from him; relishing the feel of his bare skin, the rise and fall of his chest against hers. His breath was hot as it puffed against her neck, his touch gentle as he stroked the side of her face, trailing his fingers down her jaw, collarbone, and then her side, tickling her ribs as he did so. She closed her eyes and let his emotions roll over her; affection and gratitude, sorrow and anguish. The good and the bad. But slowly, oh so slowly, the good was winning.

Her heart swelled almost painfully with the mixture of emotions. Before she knew it, she was saying the words she'd promised herself she would not say.

"I love you, Spock," she whispered.

She sensed a change immediately, the tranquil atmosphere shattered as Spock stiffened in her arms. The contact link severed abruptly as he sat up, jostling her and forcing her to sit up as well. Puzzled and confused, Nyota drew the sheets closer to hide her nakedness and looked questioningly at him.

"You should not say such things, Nyota," he said, his voice curiously flat, as if he were struggling to keep it even. "You will regret them... there are things of which you are not aware."

His words hit her like a phaser blast, an almost physical pain filling her sinking heart as she stared at him speechlessly, lips parted in shock as she tried to process what was happening. Try as she might, she couldn't understand his sudden change in demeanor.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she asked when she finally found her voice again.

Spock moved to the edge of the bed, reaching for his clothes. Taking this as a bad sign, she too began to hunt for her clothing, the pain in her chest intensifying and her hands shaking as she found her uniform. This was unlike Spock - something was wrong. And his reaction to the words she'd never said to a man before hurt more than any mortal wound ever could.

"The destruction of my planet has changed everything," he said, his back turned to her as he pulled on his shirt. "Plans that I have made for my future must be changed. Any feelings I have concerning the subject do not matter."

"They do to _me_," Nyota said heatedly, a sudden, unexplainable wave of anger rolling over her as she smoothed down her slightly wrinkled uniform. "It matters to me if you feel the same way I do. I just completely opened myself to you, and you -"

Spock cut her off calmly, the hard edge gone from his tone as he turned to face her. "I have a duty to my people. How I... _feel_... in regard to you, cannot change that."

"_Duty_?" Nyota echoed, her mind reeling as a fresh wave of anger slammed over her. "You said you'd made a decision - that we had a future together! And now you're saying we don't? What duty is this, Spock? You've never told me, but I really think I ought to know!"

"You do not want to know, Nyota," he said quietly.

"I do!" Angry tears filled her eyes as she balled her hands into fists, glaring at him from across the bed. "I really do, Spock! I want to know what's changed your mind!"

His eyes were calculating as he looked at her, his face carefully composed. It seemed an eternity passed before he finally spoke.

"I have been betrothed to a Vulcan female since the age of seven, as is the tradition with my people," he said. "It was an arranged match and I have not even seen her since I was a child. Mere hours after the destruction of my planet, I received word from my father that she was off-planet in the Rigel system during Vulcan's demise, and still lives. Had Vulcan not been destroyed, I may have been able to end the betrothal, but now..." He looked away from her as he continued. "Most of my people are gone and our race must be rebuilt. I have no choice but to make a Vulcan match. I must marry her."

It seemed the air had been sucked out of the room as the words struck Nyota with the force of a photon torpedo. Her vision narrowed and tunneled until she could see nothing but Spock, standing coolly before her as he tore her heart to shreds, waves of hurt and betrayal washing over her and rooting her to the spot. His voice sounded distant, a strange ringing in her ears drowning it out as she felt her knees weaken, the tightness in her chest increasing until she was gasping for air.

She saw him step toward her with a look of concern in his eyes. "Nyota..." he said gently, but the name sounded hollow coming from his lips.

Struggling for breath - and trying to clear her mind - Nyota took a step back, almost stumbled, and with shaking hands bent down to pull on her boots.

Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. This was the final blow. She couldn't take another one - she wouldn't allow herself to be hurt again.

"Nyota, please stay and allow me to explain," he said quietly. She thought she heard a hint of regret in his tone, but it was too late.

"No. I - I have to go," she said, her voice breaking on the last syllable as she pulled on one boot. "I can't do this. Not again."

"Nyota, I -"

"Just... don't. Please don't," she whispered. Hot tears pricked at her eyelids but she refused to let them fall. So many painful emotions threatened to overwhelm her - to break her down, to make her cry. She had to get out of there.

Turning away, she headed to the door. When she reached it she paused, one hand hovering over the release button. After a moment's hesitation, and not even knowing what was holding her back, she turned to face Spock again. He raised his eyes to meet hers; the sadness and remorse in their dark depths were palpable. Whatever had driven him to say the harsh words, he clearly regretted hurting her.

She opened her mouth - to say what, she didn't know - but whatever words her heart had bid her to say died long before they reached her lips. Swallowing hard, she turned away again and pressed the button. With a hiss the airlock doors opened and she stepped into the corridor.

Resisting the urge to run, Nyota walked as quickly as she could down the hallway - anxious to get away, to allow herself no time to think. A painful lump was beginning to form in her throat; her breath came in short gasps. Mind whirling, she hadn't seen the tall Vulcan standing outside Spock's door as she hurried past, his dark eyes following her until she disappeared around a corner.

XXXXXX

Sarek watched the young woman round the corner. After thirty years of being bonded to a human female, he immediately recognized the shaky breath, the rapidly blinking eyes - the urgency in her every step. She was upset.

He listened to her footsteps recede in the distance, curiosity and concern filling the empty void that had been left after the destruction of his planet. Curiosity as to what had transpired - concern that his son had just made a horrible mistake.

Sarek pressed the buzzer and waited for the door to slide open. There was a pause; it slid back and he stepped inside.

He froze. Spock was removing the sheets from his bed - no, _ripping_ them off. With jerky, savage movements he tugged them off the mattress, the corner catching and tearing. He balled up the torn cloth and tossed it into the refresher, which banged shut.

Aside from the incident on the bridge the day before, Sarek had not seen his son in such an agitated state in almost twenty years - at least the day before, the cause had been apparent. As Spock turned to face him, his hands were clenched at his sides, his chest heaving slightly, eyebrows drawn together as he glared at his father. He had most certainly inherited his mother's temper.

"I am a fool," Spock said, bitterness creeping into his tone.

Unable to either refute or agree with this assessment without further information, Sarek raised an eyebrow and said, "I assume this outburst is in some way connected to the highly emotional female who just exited your quarters?"

"I told her the truth. The... events of yesterday have altered my future. I must marry T'Pring." The words were spoken more evenly than before, almost wistfully, as Spock turned away. "I did not mean to... upset her."

Sarek had seen the looks Spock and the human woman had exchanged on the bridge - he'd had his suspicions regarding their relationship, and it seemed those suspicions were correct. He suppressed a sigh - a habit he had adopted from Amanda - and clasped his hands behind his back. Looking down at the floor with a slight frown, he responded, "Human females are often easily upset, but perhaps this time it could have been avoided."

"Had I been wiser and more fully embraced logic, I would never have permitted myself to grow attached to her," Spock continued, as if speaking to himself more than to Sarek. "Our ancestors were right in binding emotions, Father. To feel so deeply is dangerous. I did not consider the consequences of my feelings, for either of us. I allowed my feelings for her to blind me."

Sarek again thought of Amanda, a deep pang shooting through him as he recalled her smile, her brown eyes sparkling with laughter. What would she say if she heard Spock utter those words? She, who had argued with him relentlessly about the binding of her son's emotions?

"Your mother would disagree," Sarek said. "She often said Vulcans deny themselves the one thing every being yearns for and needs to be truly happy, that logic is not only a source of peace among our race but also of misery. Humans may be intellectually inferior, but your mother felt there are things Vulcans could perhaps learn from them."

Spock turned back around, his hands slowly unclenching as he stared at Sarek. "I do not understand," he admitted.

"Logic is essential to our existence. Without it, Vulcans would have died out a thousand years ago. But I found that love... love is essential for true peace and contentment, and a compromise between the two can be found."

"How can one reconcile logic with an emotion that defies the very meaning of the word?" Spock asked, eyebrows drawing together. "One cannot both love and justify their actions with logic. You cannot have both."

"Your mother," Sarek quietly said, "also often said that logic is open to interpretation."

Spock was silent for a moment, turning the words over in his head. Then he began to pace in front of the bed, his agitation returning. "It does not matter. Had Nero not..." He hesitated, then added, "I had planned to marry Nyota, but that cannot happen now."

Sarek watched his son pace several more times, his steps quickening as he grew increasingly frustrated. Pacing was a habit Amanda often took up when she was angry or worried. He again felt a deep pain as he thought of her... as he had done for the last twenty-four hours, he buried it deeper. He was not ready to feel the full force of his sorrow. He wasn't sure if he ever would be.

"She also insisted that I was too hard on you as a child, that I should have allowed you to make more decisions on your own. She did not speak to me for many weeks after I arranged the bonding between you and T'Pring; she thought you should have been allowed to select your own mate."

"That is not the way of our people," Spock pointed out.

"I chose my mate. I cannot forbid you from doing the same. That is a mistake I have made many times in the past with you. When you opted for Starfleet over the Science Academy I treated your decision as a betrayal, a foolish act of rebellion. I refused to listen to your mother, who tried to make me understand you were doing exactly what I told you to - deciding your own path. And now, you are faced with another path and you must travel it alone."

Sarek tore his gaze from his son's eyes - eyes that reminded him painfully of his wife - and looked down. Amanda had been right about many things... it had taken the snapping of their bond for him to realize that. The loneliness that had engulfed him was absolute and he was drowning in it. For the first time in thirty years, he did not have Amanda's warm presence to save him.

Spock still stared at him, but Sarek knew he understood. The decision - whatever decision it was he had to make - was his and his alone.

His part done, Sarek turned to the door and pressed the release button before stepping out into the hallway. He left silence in his wake, his son staring thoughtfully after him, long after the door slid shut.


	19. What Feels Right

**A/N: I have good news! Most of chapter 20 is already written, so the final chapter should be up in a few days!**

**Chapter 19: What Feels Right**

Bright sunlight broke through the cloud cover and filtered through the shuttle's tinted windows as the vessel descended toward the Academy's hangar. Nyota leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes with a sigh as the craft landed on the pavement with a slight bump.

The Enterprise had taken a week to complete its triumphant return to Earth on impulse power. It had been a long seven days; Nyota had spent most of her time on the bridge, leaving only for meals and what meager amount of sleep she could get in between double shifts. She hadn't minded the work; the buzz of activity on the bridge distracted her from thinking too much.

Starfleet Command was still trying to understand what exactly had happened . The Comm. station had been jammed with the constant stream of incoming and outgoing transmissions as questions and explanations were sent back and forth. Nyota knew there was still quite a bit of explaining to be done: Starfleet wasn't ready to accept Kirk's story that a Romulan had come from the future through a black hole to avenge his planet's destruction by destroying the Federation.

It was understandable that they were skeptical, she thought grimly as the shuttle doors slid open and the Enterprise crew - exhausted and relieved to be home - began to pour into the hangar. If she hadn't been there, she would have had trouble believing it too.

She joined the others leaving the shuttle and ducked through the exit. The Academy hangar they had landed in was crowded with her fellow "heroes" making their way to the doors. A particularly large security officer jostled her rudely as he made his way past, and as she glared after him she caught sight of the very person she had been avoiding for the last week.

Spock stood off to the side of the hangar, with the surviving Vulcans, as the other members of the Enterprise crew walked on. His hands were clasped behind his back, his dark eyes determinedly trained on a crowd of officers; but Nyota had the peculiar feeling that, seconds before, they had been on her.

The Commander had been restricted from bridge duty for the remainder of the journey back to Earth, by order of the Chief Medical Officer. Dr. McCoy seemed convinced that this was a grand gesture of sympathy on his part, but Nyota knew it had probably only served to make things worse for Spock - who, like her, dealt with pain by immersing himself in work. His absence from the bridge had made it easy to avoid him while on the Enterprise, but Nyota had not yet figured out what she would do when they were back at the Academy.

_It doesn't matter, anyway_, she thought as a familiar stab of hurt and anger streaked through her. _He's leaving Starfleet and I'll probably never see him again_.

Averting her gaze, she pushed past a group of ensigns and walked out into the blinding California sunshine. The sight that greeted her was both expected and unwanted.

Hundreds of civilians and Starfleet cadets crowded the courtyard, and as the Enterprise crew made their appearance, a great roar of noise echoed against the brick buildings of the Academy. Shouts and loud conversation swelled as friends and family rushed to each other, hugging and crying their relief when they saw that their loved ones were alive and well. News crews pushed forward, shoving tiny microphones into the faces of officers and demanding statements. High-ranking officials, more reserved than the cadets, waited on the sidelines to shake the crew members' hands.

Nyota's eyes automatically sought out Spock again. He had come outside with the others, but stood in the shadows of the hangar; he surveyed the throng of overemotional humans before him, his expression unreadable. As she watched him, his familiar brown eyes suddenly met hers; there was an unpleasant lurch in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. She waited for him to look away - but he did not; he watched her steadily until she finally turned and began to push her way through the crowd.

By the time Nyota could make her way through the thick press of people, she felt drained and wanted nothing more than to be alone in her dorm - away from the noisy cadets, away from Spock and his silent party of Vulcan survivors. She didn't want to be reminded any more of what had come to pass - of the way things could have been different for her, for them, for everyone.

Squeezing between two fourth-class cadets, she made it onto clear ground. With her dorm in sight, she began to walk across the quad.

"Nyota - Ny! Over here!" came a shout from behind her. At once recognizing the voice, Nyota spun around.

"_Gaila_?" she asked incredulously, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. But Gaila, her green skin shining in the sunlight, red curls bouncing as she ran toward her, was definitely there.

"Don't sound so surprised," Gaila said, amused, as she came to a halt.

"But how - the whole fleet - "

Gaila's bright smile faded, her features settling into an unaccustomed solemnness. "My captain ordered an evacuation right before our ship was destroyed," she replied grimly. "It was just luck, Nyota. I was stationed next to one of the pods." She bit her lip and looked down at the brick path. "But so many people we know... people I was friends with..."

A single tear leaked down Gaila's cheek, but she quickly brushed it away and beamed again. The forced smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "But I'm alive, and you're alive! That's all that matters, right?"

Despite Gaila's determined cheerfulness, Nyota knew the Orion felt the same way she did: There was nothing to celebrate in their return. So many people had lost their lives... it seemed an insult for the cadets to celebrate their costly victory.

Gaila looked over Nyota's shoulder, back at the hangar. Her smile disappeared again when she spotted the Vulcans gathered at the entrance, talking quietly amongst themselves as humans swarmed around them.

"How's the Commander?" she asked quietly as Spock broke away from the others and began to make his way through the crowd, in the direction of the graduate apartment buildings. "Is he... is he holding up okay? I heard from someone that his mother..." She trailed off, looking back at Nyota.

"He's... he's handling it as best he can," Nyota hesitantly replied. She had no desire to tell Gaila that, once again, Commander Spock had changed his mind about her. At least, not right now.

Something in her expression seemed to alert the Orion that all was not well. With a furrowed brow, she opened her mouth to speak - but Nyota quickly cut her off.

"Let's get away from all this noise. I need to start packing my things, anyway. We're leaving in a few weeks, right after graduation."

"Leaving? Where to? And who's 'we'?" Gaila asked, half-running to keep up with Nyota, who was striding away across the grassy quad.

"The Enterprise was set to embark on a five-year mission the day after graduation. The repairs will be done by then, so Starfleet sees no reason to delay the launch. I processed the message from the Admiral, myself," Nyota explained as she passed the tree where she had first kissed Spock. Keeping her eyes resolutely on the looming dorm building in front of her, she added, "and the 'we' is us. The Admiral _also_ ordered that any surviving crew members of the Farragut who are still fit for duty are to be transferred to the Enterprise. That includes you, Gaila."

"Really? We're going on a five-year mission together? This is going to be great!" Gaila said excitedly, some of her old vibrancy returning as a real smile broke out on her face.

Try as she might, Nyota could muster none of her friend's enthusiasm for the mission ahead. The idea of never seeing Spock again - of his not being on the Enterprise - felt _wrong_ to her. The dull ache in her chest as she looked across the quad at the distant graduate quarters _told_ her the Enterprise was where he belonged.

_If only _he_ knew that_, she thought wistfully to herself as she followed Gaila into the lobby of their dorm.

XXXXX

Spock walked alone down the dimly-lit corridors, occasionally passing cadets or the families of those who had died in the Narada's attack, come to collect the belongings of their kin. He hardly noticed them as he wound his way through the familiar hallways, nearing his destination. This was far more important.

It had been three weeks, one day, fourteen hours, and ten minutes since his planet had been destroyed, and two weeks since the Enterprise's return to Earth. He had spent most of that time in reflection in his quarters, leaving only to attend required meetings.

Until that day, when he'd decided to assist with repairs.

_ Do what feels right._

Those were the words spoken, just minutes before, by the _other_ version of himself. Spock had approached the Elder in the hangar after mistaking him for his father; the ensuing conversation had been both the oddest and the most fascinating one Spock had ever had.

_Do what feels right._

It was what they had all been trying to tell him: Elder Spock, his mother and father, even Captain Pike. The words echoed inside Spock's mind, clearer than ever before, as if a light had been turned on in his brain. He had to make a choice; a choice between what _he_ wanted and what was expected of him.

_Do what feels right._

Now that he could think clearly, the decision was an easy one. He knew what felt _right_. He knew where he wanted to be. The elder's words of wisdom had given Spock the courage and fortitude the advice of the others had not; the strength he needed to make the leap.

_Do what feels right._

He had chosen Starfleet because he belonged nowhere else. And there, he had made a place for himself, had made his first friends. That had not changed with the destruction of his home planet, and even though part of him insisted he join his people in rebuilding their civilization, he was drawn to another path.

_Do what feels right._

As soon as the Elder had spoken the words, Nyota's face had flashed through Spock's mind. _She_ felt right.

But if he were to ever have her again, there was something else he must do first.

Standing before a door at the end of a long corridor, Spock pressed the chime to signal his arrival.

"Enter," came an unfamiliar voice.

Spock stepped into the room. He found himself in large, spacious quarters; many Starfleet officers and civilians had given up their homes to the Vulcan survivors, who required lodgings while they set up their base on Earth. It would be some time before they could leave to establish the new colony, and, in spite of Starfleet's losses, there was not a single empty dorm room or officer's apartment in the Academy.

These particular quarters must have belonged to a high-ranking officer; the rooms were well-appointed, decorated in muted grays and sterile whites, with pieces of artwork on display as if it were a museum. Spock was not surprised that the woman standing before him, watching him with cool, yet beautiful eyes, would find a way to secure such accommodations.

"T'Pring," Spock greeted, crossing the living room and extending his fingers to her in the _ozh'esta_.

The Vulcan female returned the gesture, as was expected of her. But as soon as her fingers met his, Spock felt a sudden flash of emotion that was not his; T'Pring quickly threw up her mental shields and broke the _ozh'esta_, but it was too late; he had already felt her misery.

"I left the Rigel system as soon as I felt the telepathic disturbance of those who perished," T'Pring said, turning away from him. Her silver gown whispered against the carpeted floor as she went to the window. "I arrived several days ago. I expected your visit then."

"I was immersed in deep meditation. I came as soon as I had the opportunity," Spock replied.

T'Pring paused, then turned from the window to regard him. In a quiet tone, she said, "It is... very difficult to accept that our home is now gone."

Spock did not reply. In truth, he still had a home - but it was not here; it was on the Enterprise.

T'Pring tilted her head slightly to the side as she observed him. "You, like I, always have a purpose, Spock. You are here for a reason."

In answer, Spock clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk around the room, stopping to examine an abstract painting mounted on a wall. Not looking at her, he replied, "Vulcans are now an endangered species. It is expected of me to leave Starfleet and join the rebuilding effort. This includes finalizing our marriage."

"Yes..." T'Pring said slowly, waiting for him to continue.

Spock turned back to look at her. He did not speak again for several seconds; instead, he took in her appearance. T'Pring was, according to the standards of many different species, a beautiful woman; even he would admit that. But her black eyes were cold, lacking the warmth he had become accustomed to in a mate. Her face, so lovely otherwise, was a frozen mask of logic. Her beauty was marred only by what she was not: human.

If he were to marry her, he would be just as consumed with misery as she had been when he touched her moments previously.

"There are many Vulcan males who will be left without a mate," Spock finally said. "Some will find mates among other species, but there are those who will inevitably perish during their Time."

T'Pring's gaze slid from his as she again turned to the window, her posture rigid, arms folded over her chest. She stared out over the distant Bay as she replied.

"Yes. There are those who will be unable to find a mate." Her tone was even, lacking any inflection, but something told Spock she was not as unaffected as she seemed.

"As such," Spock said, joining her by the window and looking down her, "I think I would put myself to better use by forfeiting my mate and giving another the chance to survive."

T'Pring's head snapped around; she eyed him piercingly for a moment before looking away again. "Am I to understand that you are not joining the rebuilding effort, then?"

"I have already decided that my future lies elsewhere."

"Then you are ending the betrothal arranged by our families?" She stared determinedly out the window, but her eyes were out of focus; she was listening, and listening hard.

"I release you, T'Pring," Spock said quietly. There was a soft gasp beside him, but he went on. "We are no longer beholden to one another. I will call for a Healer to remove our bond before the Enterprise departs in eight days."

T'Pring stood stock-still as Spock turned and made his way back to the door. He was almost there when she finally spoke again.

"Is she human?" she asked softly.

Spock's steps slowed. "I do not know to whom you refer."

"The one you prefer." T'Pring's long gown rustled as she turned around. "Is she human?"

Spock did not reply. He stepped toward the door again.

"I prefer another, also," she continued quietly.

"Yes. I have long been aware of your preference for Stonn," Spock said, turning to face her.

T'Pring did not seem at all ashamed. "My preference for Stonn is strong, and had you not released me, I would have found a way to have him, even while married to you." She paused, but Spock did not respond to this announcement. He could hardly resent her for this when he, himself, knew what it was like to desire another. When he said nothing, she added; "He was with me in the Rigel system, and while I am relieved he was not on Vulcan when it was obliterated, he will die soon if he cannot find a mate. Now I may choose him, as you have chosen your mate. You have done us both a favor this day, Spock, and I am grateful. I willingly release you and wish you contentment with your human."

The misery Spock had felt from his former betrothed now made sense. It was not only, as he had first supposed, grief resulting from the destruction of their home planet - but also from the knowledge that she must marry Spock when she wanted another.

The feeling was all too familiar to him.

"Live long and prosper, T'Pring," Spock said.

"Peace and long life, Spock," T'Pring replied as she turned back to the window, her countenance somewhat softer than before as she stroked a pendant she wore around her neck.

Spock exited the quarters, the doors sliding shut behind him.

He had taken the first step, but there was still much to be done in eight days. All he could hope for was that Nyota would find it in her human heart to forgive him.


	20. The Pledge

**A/N: This is it, the final chapter! I want to thank all of my readers and reviewers for sticking with this story and leaving me such nice comments.**

**I *do* have some ideas for a semi-sequel brewing in the back of my mind, so expect me to return to S/U soon!**

**Chapter 20: The Pledge**

The bridge was alive with excitement as the Science, Navigation, Tactical, and Communications stations prepared for launch. Fingers flicking expertly over the controls, Uhura tuned her frequencies and opened all channels before swiveling around in her chair.

"Communications up and running, Captain," she called out as Kirk walked onto the bridge.

She was relieved to be back on the Enterprise. It had only been a few weeks since the events that changed the history of the galaxy forever, but those weeks had felt like months while she waited at the Academy for final exams to end and graduation to commence. The few cadets who had returned from the mission to Vulcan had been given a free ride for the rest of the term; most had been grateful for this, but the lack of work had only made Nyota more anxious than ever to return to duty.

"Bones - buckle up!" the captain said, slapping the doctor, who looked less than thrilled, on the shoulder as he passed. With a grin, Kirk sat down in the captain's chair.

Shaking her head with a faint smile, Nyota turned back to her station. Something told her that life aboard the Enterprise would never be boring with Kirk as her captain.

She was rechecking her console for the tenth time when the turbolift doors slid open again. She instinctively glanced toward the doors, expecting to see a yeoman delivering reports - then did a double take, standing abruptly from her chair without even realizing it.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, confusion clouding her mind, as she watched Spock ask Kirk for permission to come aboard the ship. Questions chased each other around in her mind: _Why is he here? When did he change his mind?_ And the question she wanted to know the answer to most of all - _What does this mean for... us_?

When he turned to head to his station and their eyes met, she was unable to suppress the smile that crossed her lips. Despite her resistance, a tiny ray of hope was beginning to break through her confusion.

_Don't get ahead of yourself_, she scolded as she sat back down at her console and willed herself not to look over at the Science station. _Just because he's back on the Enterprise doesn't mean he's changed his mind about his fiancee..._

But the bubble of hope that had formed refused to be deterred by reason, and as the Enterprise was launched into the blackness of space, she stopped fighting it.

XXXXX

That shift seemed to be the longest she had ever endured. By the time she was able to leave, Spock was no longer on the bridge.

Walking quickly down the corridors, she resisted the urge to break into a run. There were so many unanswered questions - even if the truth hurt, she _had_ to know...

Breathing faster than normal, she arrived at a door halfway down a corridor. Fingers trembling, she pressed the chime.

Nyota waited, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and chewing on her bottom lip. As the seconds stretched on and no one answered the door, her heart began to sink, and along with it, so did the hope she'd cherished for the last several hours.

_What am I thinking?_ she asked herself, her bitterness returning as she stood before Spock's closed door. _So what if he's back... it changes nothing... I'm an idiot for coming here..._

Heavy with disappointment and self-disgust, she turned and walked down the empty hallway toward a turbolift. Five minutes later, she arrived at her own quarters and pressed the fingerprint-recognition button. The door slid open with a chime.

After taking three steps into the room, she stopped short. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight before her: Spock stood five feet away, his hands clasped behind his back, his face solemn as he watched her with an intensity she had rarely seen from him before.

"How did you get in?" she asked once she had recovered from her shock. Folding her arms over her chest, she frowned at him.

"I... abused my authority by overriding your security system. I did not wish to be questioned by others about my purpose for waiting outside your quarters."

"A few weeks ago, you told me you're going to marry another woman," Nyota said with a touch of bitterness. "I don't know how Vulcans handle such situations, but generally, human males don't show up at a woman's quarters after something like that."

"I am not going to marry T'Pring." Spock's voice was calm, his brown eyes trained unwaveringly on her.

Nyota blinked, lowering her arms as the words slowly sank in. The feeble ray of hope she had allowed to brighten the last few hours of her shift began to swell within her again. Forcing it down, she drew in a deep breath.

"_What_?"

"I am no longer betrothed to her," Spock replied simply. "After enlightening conversations with my father and an individual whose advice I believe I can trust, I found I could not bring myself to marry her."

Nyota's eyebrows furrowed, her mind spinning with the implications of what he was saying. "I told you how I... how I felt... and you acted like it didn't matter. So why are you even _here_, Spock?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly with a sudden resurgence of anger.

"I am here," Spock said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued to watch her intently, "because, after the many illogical actions I have taken where it concerns you, I would think it is quite obvious that I love you, Nyota."

XXXXX

Nyota's lips parted in surprise, her eyes searching Spock's for confirmation of what she had just heard. Several long seconds passed before she was able to speak.

"Then why were you such a _dumbass_ about it?" she asked, refusing to give in to the rising hope and joy his words brought her. "Why didn't you just _tell_ me that when I told you?"

"I cannot explain my reaction. I only know that as soon as you left, I regretted it," Spock said gently. The sincerity of his words was evident in his tender gaze.

Nyota bit her lip, hard, a violent battle waging within her. He'd broken her heart, only to realize later that it had been unnecessary, and part of her wanted to scream and yell at him - to tell him to leave and never come back. And yet... another part, in the back of her mind but growing stronger, defying her uncertainty, whispered; _He loves you. He is Vulcan and he admitted to loving you. You are angry only because you are afraid - afraid of what this might mean for you._

Voice trembling, she said, "You can't keep doing this to me, Spock; I need to _know_ something like this will never happen again, and I don't think you can guarantee that."

"Nyota..." Spock took a step toward her, and when she did not back away he said, "T'Pring and I barely knew one another. I had no emotional attachment to her. Our situation is entirely different."

She didn't reply, and he hesitated before speaking again; "I have never endeavored to hurt you, Nyota, and I am... sorrier than you could ever know."

Unable to stop the hot tears from forming, and not wanting him to see, she cast her eyes around the room, looking anywhere but at him as she hugged herself tightly. "If you love me so much, why didn't you end the betrothal when I first told you I wanted to be with you?"

"The only answer I can give is that I was confused between what I thought I _should_ do, and what I _wanted_ to do. A friend made me realize I still had a choice," Spock said, taking another step closer. He was now only three feet away, and when she finally looked up at him she saw that his eyes were shining with more emotion than she had ever seen in them before; sadness, earnestness, pleading. "What I _want_, Nyota, is you, and I choose you above all others."

Nyota felt something within her break; the last of her anger and doubt fell away as burning tears slid down her cheeks. She found herself stepping toward him, her arms reaching out to embrace him.

But before she could reach him, he stopped her, gently taking her hands into his and lowering her arms back to her sides. Stricken, Nyota searched his face, his eyes, for an explanation.

Despite his confusing actions, his gaze was just as tender as before. His voice was hushed as he spoke to her. "There are things I must explain. I should have told you from the very beginning, but I did not, because my people do not discuss it even amongst themselves."

Before he'd even finished, Nyota was shaking her head. "I don't need to hear any more, Spock. In fact, it's probably better that I don't."

"No. I _must_ tell you," Spock insisted. "It is something you need to know."

With a sigh, Nyota folded her arms over her chest again and waited for him to speak. Spock looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he clasped his hands behind his back, shifting slightly from one foot to the other.

"It is imperative that Vulcan males have a mate," he began. "There is a... biological event... that occurs every seven years among the Vulcan male population..."

"A biological event?" Nyota asked, eyebrows rising with amusement and curiosity. "What kind of event?"

Spock shifted again, hesitating before answering; "At this time, a male's hormonal levels become dangerously high and he loses all control over his emotions and mental processes. Such loss of control is highly embarrassing for a Vulcan, which is why we do not speak of it." He paused, looking up at Nyota. "This is called Pon Farr, the time of mating. If one does not mate or cannot meditate his way out of the _plak tow_, the blood fever, the level of adrenaline in his system becomes lethal."

Nyota's amusement faded away as she began to understand. "So this is why you couldn't break it off with T'Pring?" she asked softly. "You were afraid that we wouldn't work out and you'd be left without a mate?"

"In the simplest terms, yes," Spock replied, seeming relieved that she was taking it so well. The tension was easing out his shoulders, his arms back at his sides.

"But you did it anyway..." she said slowly, comprehension dawning. "You ended the betrothal... put your life at risk... without knowing what the outcome would be."

"It was what humans call a 'gamble'," he agreed. "Nyota... the end of my betrothal to T'Pring is my pledge to you that I will do all I can to make amends for my behavior. I do not know how else to prove it to you, but if that is not enough to win your forgiveness, I fully understand and accept your decision."

Nyota was speechless; she swallowed a few times, trying to rid herself of the painful lump in her throat. Her eyes stung with tears again.

"Spock... I've already forgiven you," she finally whispered, her voice breaking.

Spock let out a long exhalation; he stared down at her, as if not daring to believe he had heard right. "Nyota..." he murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek with two warm fingers. "I did not think you would..."

Nyota shook her head to silence him. "Don't be a dumbass, Spock," she said. "I already said I love you, remember?"

Spock opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Nyota threw her arms around him. Whatever he had been about to say was forgotten as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against him. She kissed him hard; his lips seared hers as they returned her fervor, his scent - clean, masculine, familiar - pervading her senses. She felt all sense of time and space flee her as she lost herself in his embrace...

This_ is where I belong. Where _he_ belongs,_ she thought, tightening her arms around his neck. This_ feels right._

Suddenly, the heat of his mouth was gone. Dazed, Nyota opened her eyes to look up at him. He still held her, one arm around her waist so she couldn't step away - not that she wanted to. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek.

"I do not enter into relationships lightly, Nyota."

"I know," she whispered. "Neither do I."

His dark eyes burned into hers as she craned her neck to look up at him. His nearness was intoxicating, and all she wanted was to kiss him again.

But instead, Spock leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, his lips close but not close enough. He closed his eyes and gently squeezed her hips before saying, "Then we belong to each other."

Moving his head slightly, he kissed her again. This time the caress of his lips was slow, tender, the flame slowly building as she leaned into the kiss.

She sighed against his mouth.

_He was hers._

Spock pulled her against him, so close that the entire length of their bodies were pressed together. Neither of them wanted to let go - and this time, they didn't have to.

_And she was his._


End file.
